


Wasteland

by Bittiface



Series: Matters of the Heart [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt Shiro (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Illness, Injury, Lance and Keith bicker like brothers, PTSD, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Sick Lance (Voltron), Survival, They all get a little worse for wear, Whump, Wilderness, mental health, tantrums, whump for all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 03:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18002660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittiface/pseuds/Bittiface
Summary: Shiro, Keith and Lance end up on a planet far, far away from the other paladins and the castle, thanks to the attack from the druids. Communications won't work. The planet is an unforgiving environment, filled with animal dangers and fussy weather.They trio will need to try and hold themselves together, lest the wasteland kill them. Then again, high tempers and constant physical and mental stress might do that for them.- - -Final Part of the Matters of the Heart series.This will update on an inconsistent basis. Chapters will go up as I finish them. I want them to be meatier than the last few fics, so expect a few weeks between chapters.:) I love and appreciate everyone who reads my fics, or leaves comments or kudos. Please enjoy~





	1. Into the Wilderness

Keith was familiar with loss. Familiar with loneliness and the fear that came with it. Fear of becoming attached. Fear of being left behind again. He'd lost his father, his home. He'd lost Shiro, his brother, his mentor, twice already. And now he'd lost him for a third.

On a planet he couldn't name, after watching the man he admired and loved most lose his mind back in the cloning facility, Keith felt like he was at the edge of something. Perhaps the edge of how much he could cope with this loss. He felt he was breaking with the worry, the longing, the hope that kept crumbling just as he'd gripped it. He wasn't built to deal with so much stress. How had he carried on for so long? When did it all go so wrong?

He could tell himself that running away from the team made it all easier. But being far from those he wanted to be close to, wishing that would keep the disappointment of loss from catching him; it only worked in theory. He felt it all dragging the thorns further down his skin, breaking him open no matter how much he wanted to keep himself closed off and strong.

Keith was slipping, and he knew there was no one out here, in the middle of nowhere, who he could trust to catch him.

\- - -

Shiro was a broken man. He'd been torn apart, rebuilt, dropped into a position of leading four teenagers into otherworldly and dangerous battles against aliens and robots. He'd been on adventures he didn't recall, been friend and foe without the memory to back it up. All in all, he'd held up well, despite the trauma, and what little memories that did slip through from his time as a prisoner. 

But seeing hundreds of copies of himself light up in rows, tubes of Shiros aglow within their containers, nearly life like, yet so surreal in their stillness. Druids who sneered behind masks and hinted of a truth about himself that Shiro was unable to understand.

He could not cope.

Shiro sat listlessly in the middle of a barren wasteland. The plains were as empty as he was. His mind was no longer able to cope and process all that had happened to him. Inner strength was gone, as a heavy existential crisis bore into his core. 

_What am I?_

\- - -

Lance was alone. He was so, so tired of being alone. The past few months had been nothing short of emotional and mental torment. Now, uncertain of the well-being of his team, he stood in a crowded forest painted in greys and other dusty colours. His only hope was that the druids had simply used magic to separate them, and not something worse.

His communications weren't working. Whether it was distance or some other malfunction, he couldn't be certain.

Should he stand there and wait, so as not to become lost in case someone came for him? Or investigate the planet in hopes of finding a way back to his team?

Yeah, he was more of an action sort of guy. He'd walk.

As he walked, he barely took in the dull scenery. He kept picturing Pidge and Hunk vanishing, kept seeing Shiro, his hero, falling to pieces. Were it not for the placidly dull scenery, he'd have been overwhelmed by all of the horrid things his mind wanted to focus on. There was so much pain, so much loss, so much frustration and a wild need to tear the world apart. 

"This sucks." He growled to himself, his hoarse voice the only sound aside from his footsteps. 

At the least, he was less concerned with his own well being and problems, which had been a rancid habit of the last few months. But worrying hopelessly over his friends felt a little worse. Especially for Shiro. Pidge and Hunk, if they were together, would find their way home easy peasy.

But Shiro...

God, he hoped Keith was with him. The man had never looked more haunted in the time Lance knew him. And he was also missing a lot of his memory. Lance couldn't bring himself to fathom the agony of that man's plight. The strongest man he knew, the most capable, brought to his knees by a facility of clones. It was an existential nightmare. 

Lance drew himself up to full height, his chest out and his head held high to face the tree tops. Barren as this world was, Lance had a goal, a task to keep his scattered mind focused.

"I've gotta save Shiro."

\- - -

It had been hours of walking, and Keith was no closer to finding anything or anyone. Why couldn't he be in space with his lion? Fighting battles, slipping past security or straight out fist fighting with the enemy? That was so much more simple. Task oriented days that blurred into one another had been distracting and serene. But this vast emptiness where his thoughts and ruminating were his only companion? It wasn't so simple. It was complicated with no right answer. He longed to grip his blade in battle, or feel his hair fling behind him on a bike on Earth. 

Memories of racing Shiro on their cruisers swept over his vision, bringing him a pain that edged the bittersweet. He wanted his friend back. His brother. His family. 

Keith felt his lungs close up, his throat swell and his eyes burn. He gripped his hands into fists at his sides, fighting off the urge to break apart and allow these feelings to surface. Crying would do no good. Nor would anger.

"Patience yields..."

No, even those words hurt. They sung of Shiro and his gentle strength. 

"Shit.." He hissed, his vision threatening to blur. He needed to control his feelings, like Kolovan always told him he needed to. All he wanted to do was scream and kill something. 

There was nothing to attack. Nothing to kick, or punch or stab. Just vast emptiness. That vacant expanse of nothing felt like an added insult to everything wrong. The horizon was laughing at him.

So he ran. Ran and ran towards it, like he was physically capable of chasing his problems down.

\- - -

Something shut off in Shiro by the time something stirred out there in the dusty plains. A shifting of the wind rustled the dead grasses. Shiro barely moved his head to the sound as he sat surrounded by the wall of swaying grey stalks. His battle sense was deadened by his ordeal. Not a spark of self preservation, not a shred of curiosity. Just a dead grey as lifeless as his surroundings. 

A growl, primal and hungry sang pointedly from behind him. Shiro did not stir.

He'd been seated, but suddenly something heavy clamped into his back and threw him several metres away. The armour had spared him damage from whatever had done it, but the rocky tumble over the uneven ground jostled his bones. He grunted, rolling to his side and tried to lift his head. There across the flattened grass was a large beast, large tusk like teeth bared and painted with rust like stains. 

Shiro attempted to stand despite not asking himself to. Maybe like muscle memory, his body knew it needed to defend itself. 

The beast came running at him, and Shiro could barely lift an arm before he was rammed again, sent flying and tumbling over the surface of the plains. His helmet flew off this time, allowing the rocky terrain to scratch his forehead where he now rested. 

Somewhere in his dulled senses, his own brain tried to decipher this creature's goal. If it wanted a meal, Shiro hadn't exactly been threatening. He'd just sat there. Was the thing just toying with him? Or maybe Shiro had been parked near a nest?

He groaned as he tried to stand again, but the beast was once again charging. Shiro winced and braced for impact.

"Shiro!!"

A voice, so beautiful in its familiarity that Shiro briefly left the funk of his rotting mind and lifted his gaze to the side.

A vision in white and red leapt from a small incline nearby, a Marmoran blade summoned in full glory. Keith leapt onto the monster's back, his blade buried deep into it's neck. The creature was hardy, and it bucked and whirled around in rage. Keith was tossed, hitting a boulder with a grunt. His blade skidded across the rocky clearing away from him.

To their luck, the injury to the creature was enough to send it packing, as it staggered and ran back into the grassy plains. 

Shiro struggled to balance himself, dragging his heavy limbs towards Keith. The paladin in question was slowly rising from his own crumpled form. Keith wavered in place, but soon raised his dark gaze to Shiro. His eyes widened, brows knit with concern and relief.

"Shiro.." He murmured, so relieved to find the man alive, and on the same planet he was. Keith managed the next few steps left between them, and gripped the man in a hug. Shiro felt something stir within his chest, a bright flame of life within the static nonsense that had plagued him. Despite everything he was fighting inside, having Keith in arms reach was grounding and safe.

"Keith." He murmured back, his shaking arms coming up to return the hug. He swallowed dryly, unsure of what was to be said between them. 

Then a thought hit him; He didn't recall much of how he'd gotten here. His mind had been fractured by the druid's reveal. He remembered Keith calling for him, Lance yelling, and a flash of purple.

"Where is everyone?"

Keith pulled back from the warmth of the embrace, looking up at Shiro's dirtied face. Keith still had his helmet on, so he could only see some of the expression he aimed at Shiro through a scuffed up visor. 

"I-I don't know." Keith admitted, stepping back and pulling the helmet off. "I was trying to wake you up. The druids attacked. Lance tried to stop them from aiming at us.."

His eyes widened.

"Oh no.. Shiro." His indigo gaze lifted to pierce Shiro with a grave look of concern. "He got hit with that blast head on. Where'd he go if he's not here?"

\- - -

Lance was fighting against very little sleep, and a lot of previous mental fatigue. As much as he'd dedicated his focus to finding Shiro, his body and mind had limits. His feet dragged on the mossy forest floor. The fog that filtered through the dull landscape threatened to drown his lungs with its damp composition. He felt himself start to sweat the with exertion from simply moving forward, yet the air itself felt damp and cold. 

With one last step forward, Lance stopped. It was time to take a break.

As he clumsily sat on the forest floor, he began feeling that it was difficult to breathe. He tried un-slumping his posture, but to no avail. It was as if the air was too thick to breathe. His chest felt heavy, like something heavy was sitting on it, despite sitting up straight. His arms and legs felt like they weighed thickly of lead, and a sensation of white noise tingled up his veins.

_This might not be fatigue._ He thought to himself, a dread falling deep into the pit of his gut. 

Could the air be poisonous here? With a start, he activated his helmet into full face protection. He hoped he wasn't too far gone to have prevented something potentially fatal. 

He needed to get out of the forest. Quickly. With a groan, he slowly heaved himself from the ground. "This must be what it feels like to be fifty or something.." He wheezed, pushing himself up and staggering forward. His vision blurred, and as he navigated clumsily through the thickening foliage, the world suddenly dropped from under him.

With a strangled yelp, Lance fell. He'd not seen a sudden drop through his hazy surroundings, and found himself tumbling head over heels down a ravine slope. His shoulder collided with a hard surface, his head bounced off the terrain at uncomfortably sharp angles. Lance tried in vain to grab hold of something or control his descent. The sharp branches and jagged boulders that peeked from mossy earth scraped and scuffed his armour, tore at his sleeves and under-suit. 

After what felt like ages, he suddenly rolled to a stop. His head swam. It didn't make sense how he could possibly remain conscious through the fever of the forest and the beating from his fall. 

Lance strained to move his head, taking in his new surroundings. 

The forest was gone. Ahead of him was a large expanse of nearly flat terrain. There were stretches of grassy fields, patched with clearings of varying sizes, mostly comprised of dust and rocks.

Well, at least he was out of the forest.

With a tried breath, he flopped onto his back.

Lance closed his eyes. His breaths came in sharp wheezes, like he was breathing through a straw. His body was sore and stinging all over. He needed help. He didn't know if he'd wake back up if he passed out now. 

Risking attracting the wrong sort of attention, Lance winced as he brought out his bayard. Transforming it into a blaster, He aimed it at the murky sky, firing off several rounds of loud shots. His arms shaking with the effort to keep them raised, they finally collapsed on either side of his head, his weapon fizzling out of existence once more.

As a foggy darkness creeped across his eyes, he heaved one more tired breath, let his head fall to the side, and passed out.

\- - -

Keith helped a limping Shiro traverse across the patchy fields around them. They were heading toward what looked like a dreary looking forest in the distance. With any luck, it might have food and water. Shiro's injuries weren't too severe, but neither of them had anything to eat or drink, and they'd been on this planet for hours and hours.

Suddenly, gunfire rang out in the distance. Keith lifted his head, and witnessed the remains of bright trails of energy coming from the forest's edge. He couldn't see so far ahead to make out details, due to the grassy fields blocking half the horizon. He did know, however, that those red flares of energy could very well have come from Lance and his bayard.

Hoping beyond hope that he was right, Keith shouldered Shiro more securely and pressed forward.

He gave his dearest friend a glance, noting his condition. Shiro was not doing well. While injuries were few, his eyes were dark and far away. It was difficult to keep him focused and grounded, and all he could do was watch as the man's mind drifted off into some far away place that Keith had no hope of finding him in.

Keith swallowed the pain of seeing Shiro like this, and pressed on. It was a solid hour or so before he got anywhere near the forest edge. His shoulder and back were burning with the continued effort of supporting Shiro's weight. He was almost ready to take a rest when he saw something in the distance.

There, near the bottom of a ravine's cliffside, was Lance. He was far away, but the armour was a solid giveaway. He was laying down, unmoving. Surely he wasn't...

With a wince, Keith shifted Shiro off his shoulder. He was going to ask him to stand and wait, but at that moment the man seemed to come back to himself. "Keith? What's wrong.."

"It's Lance." Keith remarked, pushing away and jogging toward Lance. He could barely manage a jog. Running seemed impossible. His legs were already worn and tired from hours of walking and holding up Shiro. He finally reached the other teen's side, settling down into a crouch beside him.

"Lance?" He asked uncertainly, touching his shoulder with a degree of gingerness. 

Lance didn't stir. His face was partially obscured from the scuffing and dirt on his full face visor. He didn't dare remove it. His whole attire was worse for wear. Tears and dents in the exterior of it indicated Lance could have fallen from the top of the cliffside. 

"Lance!" Shiro's voice came from behind him. Keith looked over his shoulder to find Shiro sprinting to their location. Shiro's face was torn with concern. 

"What do we do?" Keith asked, hoping he wasn't placing too much burden onto Shiro's shoulders. "I don't know if I should move him or not."

Shiro shook his head, bending down and pressing his fingers to a point on Lance's neck. After a few heart stopping moments, Shiro breathed out a sigh. "He's alive. His pulse is pretty strong, but it feels like he's breathing a bit shallow."

Sure enough, the subtle lift and fall of his chest armour seemed to be quick and jarring. Keith and Shiro felt helpless. They were far from the castle, from any means of lending medical aid to their fallen team member. All they could do was wait. Wait, and hope that awful beast didn't have friends.

\- - -

Shiro had dreamed of space. His warmest memory being the thrill in his heart upon seeing the craft that would take him up on his first flight. He'd dreamed of discovery and adventure. Of the floating through stars and galaxies. Of freedom.

His life since that last mission from Earth rang of anything but freedom. It was imprisonment, torture, bloodshed and body horror. It was ups and downs as he found his new family in space, as he fought and bled for galaxies that would never know his name, but always know his legacy. Spots of visions danced in his dreams, of memories he didn't remember making. 

He saw his found family wincing at harsh words and demands, in a voice that was his but didn't ring proper. Of watching Keith leave the castle of lions wearing a uniform that didn't belong on him. Of watching Lance try his best to be heard, only to be shot down ruthlessly by his own words. He saw a flash of a hag's face, grinning wildly as a laugh tore through his dreams.

He gasped as he awoke to a brilliant night sky. Whatever clouds that had veiled the planet in a dreary grey had dissipated, revealing a wash of speckled colours amid the deep black of night.

"Shiro? You okay?" It was Keith's voice. Shiro winced as he sat up from where he lay, looking upon the small fire they'd managed to make. Keith watched him with worry, and Shiro gave him a small smile. "I'm fine. Just some weird dreams." He assured him before looking down at the prone form of Lance.

The lanky teen had moved in his sleep, which must mean the boy wasn't injured enough to prevent such stirring. He was now on his side, his arms curled up in front of his helmeted face. 

"I think it's safe to take that off him now. He seems well enough to move." Shiro murmured. Keith agreed, and together they gingerly took off the blue paladin's helmet.

Lance looked like he'd been sweating a bit. His hair was damp and sticking to his clammy forehead. He was still breathing with some arduous effort. 

"Fever?" Keith asked, looking completely out of his element. 

"I'm gunna wake him." Shiro leaned over, gently nudging Lance's shoulder. "Lance. Wake up, buddy." Lance's body moved with the motion of being jostled, but otherwise didn't stir beyond a small grunt. Shiro frowned further, and tried again. "C'mon Lance." He urged, softly patting the kid's cheek.

Lance scrunched up his face, lamenting his awakening with a disgruntled whine. Tired blue eyes opened, looking hazily ahead of him before lifting his gaze to Shiro. "Shiro..?" Suddenly, Lance gasped, and sat up with a jolt, much to the distress of Keith and Shiro. Here they'd been worried about spinal injuries, yet here was Lance awake and alert like a beat up maniac. As quickly as he'd sat up, he was bent over with a wince, cradling his arm. 

"Jeez, Lance. Be careful." Keith insisted, hovering his hands out to keep the Cuban from flailing about anymore. Lance breathed in and looked at Keith, then around the small campsite. 

"The.. the forest. We can't stay in there." He said with laboured breathing. Shiro gave a nod, and tried to usher Lance to lay down again. 

"We know. Keith scoped the place out after we found you." Lance was settled back down on his back, despite a bit of grumbling about being just fine.

"Whatever that fog was, you probably breathed in a lot of it. It might still be in your system." It explained the wheezing, although that alone could have been the result of some rib or lung injury. What did any of them know about medicine anyway. Shiro boasted some degree of knowledge, though Keith suspected it was second hand. Shiro, for his part, felt a great relief in worrying over Lance and Keith. It was a welcome distraction from his own issues.

A silence settled for a moment, none of them really knowing what to say or do. The fire crackled, the breeze felt weak, and the night sky was ablaze with sparkling pinpricks of light.

"Communications don't work." Lance remarked, resting his hands over his stomach. He tapped his fingers in a nervous rhythm over his abdomen, unable to keep still, or even silent, for very long. This nervous fidgeting made Shiro feel a lot better about Lance's condition. He obviously looked worse than he really was. He held out hope he hadn't broken anything, like a leg, or an organ.

Keith grunted in response to Lance's statement, leaning back on his hands as he tried to map the mess of stars above him. "We also don't have any supplies. We'll be in big trouble if we don't get found soon."

"At least we have our health?" Shiro offered mournfully.

All three sighed.

Shiro snorted. "At least we have each _other_."

Lance smirked. "That's more like it."

\- - - 

If it hadn't already been apparent that Lance was perfectly healthy, his complaining and whining made it certain. Keith was a second away from smacking the other teen upside the head. Either it was his feet hurt from walking, or a bruise was forming from his scary fall from the cliff, or that his mild fever was making him sweat (and according to Lance, this was super gross and intolerable). 

"Lance, we get it." Keith growled, shoving the man in the shoulder as they walked side by side. "Whining won't change anything. Besides, we have to keep moving. We need food and water."

Shiro was ahead of them, walking with a straight back. Keith was more worried about a silent Shiro than a loud and unhappy Lance. With Lance, he was more likely to voice any concerns without being asked. Shiro, not so much. So far the man had held up decently, if he ignored the first few hours of their time on this planet. But that was just it. No one should be able to stand tall under so much burden. Shiro had been led into a chamber filled with clones of himself, teased into believing he was one of them. 

And what if he was?

After all, from what they'd come to understand, Shiro had been taken over by Haggar's energy through his robotic arm, or so they said. What if, after they'd defeated Zarkon and Shiro had disappeared, the real Shiro had been.. 

No. No he could not believe such a thing. If he did, he'd have to believe that the real Shiro was out there, abandoned or dead. If he believed it, then he'd have to treat this Shiro as someone else. If it was true.. 

Maybe Shiro thought it was true. Maybe he was struggling. But there he was, leading two teens out into the barren wasteland around them, with no guarantee of survival. 

Just how did any of them keep going despite all of this uncertainty and helplessness? 

Keith spared Lance another look. The lanky teen had finally stopped talking, but as a result he looked introspective and sullen. Not a great look on an otherwise bubbly ball of energy. Keith only felt a little bit bad for making him shut up. After all, while whining was Lance's way of dealing with his stress, it would've added to his own, and likely Shiro's.

"Well.." Lance murmured a moment later, his tone subdued, "At least it's cloudy, I guess."

Keith raised a brow. "That's true.. No sunburns. No heat stroke." He supposed that was one small mercy.

And then it started to rain.

A lot.

Keith fully expected Lance to groan about jinxing their luck, and his back was up before he'd even said a word. But then no words came. Shiro looked back at the pair. Keith looked at Lance.

Lance was staring up at the sky as if he'd just seen God. 

"Lance?" Keith asked tentatively, "You okay, man?"

Lance blinked, the rain running in streams over his visor. "Can we take out helmets off?"

Keith furrowed his brows, "Huh?"

"Like.. is the rain here acidic?" Realizing he could just check himself, Lance looked down at his bracer, flicking up the floating screen and scanning the atmosphere. A relieved sigh came from him after a moment, and Lance swiftly took off his helmet. Shiro stammered, walking over to him with determined strides. "Lance, no. If we get wet, we can't dry off properly, and--"

But Lance's head was already soaked as he closed his eyes and let the rain fall on his face, a look of total peace keeping his skin free of distress lines. His smile could light up the darkest of any abyss. Keith was taken aback by it, unable to join Shiro in being mad about the risks. 

"Guess he really likes rain." Keith observed helpfully, earning an exasperated sigh from Shiro. 

"Well, if this water is safe, then we should gather as much of it as we can. Who knows how long this rain will last." 

The trio split up, looking through husks of plant life and hollowed stones for anything that could hold water. Shiro fashioned a decent sized container from dried grasses he'd braided together and lined with thicker leaves, all of which had held up to scans looking for poison or other irritants.   
Keith used his knife to hastily carve out a bowl from a large log he'd found. Lance used his blaster to shoot out a dip into a very large boulder, which quickly filled with rain water.

"Lance, we can't even carry that with us." Keith bemoaned. Lance stuck out his tongue at him. "S'far as I'm concerned? We shouldn't be running all over this planet unless something chases us. No reason we can't just camp here."

Shiro had a million things to say to this, but watching Lance sway and stagger as they worked had him holding his tongue. The kid was tired, unused to all this hiking, and likely had injuries he wasn't bothering them about. Maybe they should have taken his whining a little more seriously.

With some guilt, Shiro accepted Lance's idea to simply create a temporary base. It would create a better landmark for the Castle, he supposed. That was assuming the castle had to find them visually. It was best to make themselves comfortable.

"With any luck, we'll be rescued before we're in any real trouble.." Shiro said to the pair, optimism coming out dry. He'd meant to sound reassuring. Somehow, the deadness in his heart was taking a more permanent residence. He'd been hoping to push down all the feelings and worries he'd had over those clones and his tangled memories. He wanted to stay strong for Keith and Lance. They needed him. But he kept having brief visions of clones lining a wall, staring at him blankly. Of surgery and tables lined with restraints. Of screams ripping his throat dry. Of the gut wrenching horror he felt when he awoke without an arm.

He shivered, feeling hot and cold within the confines of his helmet. 

He had to keep himself together.

"Lance-" He choked on the name, clearing his throat to attempt some recovery. " _Lance._ Please put your helmet back on. You're still sick. I don't want you taxing yourself."

Lance frowned, his blue eyes seeming darker all of the sudden. "Yeah.. sure." Not wishing to incur Shiro's nagging again, Lance put the helmet back in place, shutting out the feeling of rain falling across his skin. Even the sound of his seemed duller within the small space.

"We should make a shelter." Shiro scanned their immediate surroundings. The plains they'd been walking through was a scrapyard of natural waste. Dead trees, desert plants and large boulders and rocks. The cliffs were only a short distance away, in case they needed emergency cover. 

"Keith, keep your visor on and go scavenge that forest for something to use. Scan any plants for toxins before gathering them; we don't know what the fog might have done to them in the long run."

"Lance, use that gun of yours to make us a fire pit. Something that has cover from the rain."

Shiro watched the boys head off as he himself moved towards a grouping of cacti. With any luck, they could be refreshed from the rain, and possibly edible.

\- - -

Lance fashioned something of a makeshift oven by carving out a dip sideways into a large boulder near their base. He'd used small microbursts of energy to keep the boulder from exploding, and merely took out small chunks at a time. He'd even added an opening to create a chimney. Keith returned with very large leaves, and a bound bundle of logs of varying sizes dragged behind him. The rain had made a nearby clay deposit malleable, and the pair used it to create a foundation for the logs, and a thin chimney for the oven.

After hours and hours of work, night began to fall. The rain let up. Their small, makeshift camp was complete. A decent wind storm could take it apart in moments, but it would keep rain at bay, and the sun if they had to spend another full day here.

Shiro dried some smaller sticks with his robotic hand, and they used it as kindling to start a small fire in the oven Lance had made. It was surprisingly functional, making the small little hovel they'd built warm up nicely. Shiro commented that it was functional and well made, earning a delighted gasp from the Blue Paladin. Said paladin eyed Shiro like a love struck puppy for a solid hour afterward. 

They ate a tiny meal of cut up cacti, or at least the inner parts that were actually edible. The desert fruit had the texture of pineapple, but the taste of pinecone. All of them grimaced with every nibble. Shiro kept repeating "At least it's edible.", to appease the looks of disgruntled scorn he spotted from Lance and Keith.

Later that night, Lance wouldn't stop sniffling.

"See? Soaked in the rain, and now you've got a runny nose." Keith needled, getting irritated with the constant noise. 

"Rain and catching a cold have nothing in common." Lance growled, rubbing his red nose on his arm. With no tissues, there wasn't much he could do, save for blowing his nose into his hand. Shiro had actually suggested that, but Lance had scoffed with such disgust, he'd not suggested it again.

Their armour and under-suits were blessedly weatherproof, but the idiot Blue Paladin just _had_ to take off his helmet for a rain dance. Keith still didn't get it, and he didn't care enough to ask.

"C'mon you two. That's enough." Shiro pleaded with calm, tired patience. The pair simmered, but levelled sulking glares at one another all the same. 

They sat in silence. Shiro fiddled with the inside of his helmet, trying to get communications to work. He wasn't a tech wizard like Hunk or Pidge. He was a pilot, and this technology wasn't flight related nor was it even from Earth. He was floundering in his attempts to figure it all out.

Keith bided time by whittling small wood branches into sharp points. They already had weapons, but as far as the other boys could tell, Keith was just trying to relieve stress.

Lance tried not to make noise anymore. Which was very hard. He wanted to whistle, or hum, or drum a beat on his thighs. But all of that would irk Keith again. He drew lethargic circles in the dirt floor of their shabby shelter instead. 

Hours passed. Lance felt a headache begin to form behind his eyes. He sniffed again. His throat hurt. He coughed.

"Told you so." Murmured Keith from nearby. Lance bit his tongue to keep from lashing out at his smug tone.

Shiro sighed, "Lance, you might be getting sick again, buddy. You already had a fever before you played with the weather." Lance gave Shiro a tired frown. With a shake of his head, Shiro gave the teen a weary smile. "Why don't you try and get some sleep. No sense in staying up if there's nothing to do."

Lance didn't want to sleep. He wanted to help. But help with what? Besides, his chest was starting to hurt as well with each breath. Resigned to his fate, Lance grumbled a half hearted goodnight, and curled up on the ground. His armour made it impossible to feel comfy. The floor was hard and still a little muddy. His nose stung with redness and snot. His headache worsened. 

Sleep didn't come, and still he tried to keep his mouth shut and his limbs steady.

To try and count his blessings, he made himself feel better by remembering his mind wasn't a cesspool of warped emotions anymore. He had a handle on his mood, on his impulses, on his heart. He was simply grumpy because he was uncomfortable, and his team mate bullied him into keeping quiet, as if Lance was some finicky toddler. 

So yes. Mildly miffed, and a little bit dejected. Otherwise, Lance felt pretty okay within his mind. He'd just have to suffer the fever and forming head cold. He could handle that. He'd never trade it for another stay at the Hotel Haggar.

However, after another hour, he'd had enough.

"Fuck it." Lance growled, sitting up and hauling his chest plate over his head. Shiro stumbled over his words as Lance started stripping out of his armour. 

"L-Lance!" He finally managed to grab the kid's arm as Lance tried to remove his shoes and leg guards. "What if we run into danger? There are large beasts out there. Remember what I told you about what Keith and I ran into?"

"Yes. Yes I do, Shiro." Lance croaked, his voice already strained after several earlier coughing fits. "But I'm boiling, and I can't sleep with this stupid armour poking at me no matter how I lay down."

Shiro relented, if only because Lance had weaselled out of his grip and continued to strip off every piece of blue and white armour well out of Shiro's reach. Keith looked on with a haughty expression on his face. "You're an idiot, Lance. You're gunna get yourself killed."

Lance's ears burned, and then his cheeks. Whether from frustration, embarrassment or fever? Who was to say. "Yeah? Well that's on me, isn't it? So buzz off and mind your business!" He crabbed back at Keith, chucking his arm bracer at Keith's head. Keith avoided the hit without effort, since Lance's aim seemed to be way off at the moment. 

Shiro groaned again, rubbing his temples as the heat in their little hovel picked up. Either from the crackling fire, or the flaring tempers; the place was a Hell hole.

"Jeez. Fine, Lance! I'm sorry for caring!" Keith bit with a growl, shifting his body away from facing Lance. Lance flipped him off before flopping back onto the floor, his back to Keith, his face pointed out at the dark expanse of desert peeking from the opening of their hut. He breathed heavily from anger and exertion, his face so flushed it stung. They'd only been stuck on this planet for maybe two days, and he and Keith were constantly at each other's throats. Lance felt badly, knowing their behaviour had to be a burden on Shiro. But he couldn't hold it back enough, no matter how he tried to behave. He had a feeling the same went for Keith. 

As Lance flip flopped between feeling too warm, too cold, and horrendously uncomfortable, the night sky darkened to a solid black; a starless void. 

He worried himself sick as he looked into the pitch black, imagining faces and eyes moving in the inky darkness. His ears strained for any alien sounds that might sneak towards them in the night. He'd not seen the creatures that Shiro and Keith spoke of, but he feared them anyway. He tried to stop thinking about it, but other worries plagued his upset mind.

Where was Pidge and Hunk? Were they okay? Allura and Coran? Was anyone trying to find them? Had they survived the druids? What about Lotor? Had he known those druids had waited for them there?

His heart wouldn't slow it's erratic and panicked pace, and his mind wouldn't cease creating scenarios for him to fear. 

And then they all heard it. A deep, menacing growl in the distance. Shiro stiffened from near the oven, standing up as he heard the approaching footfalls of a great beast.

"Oh no.."


	2. Broken Crown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Settling into a routine, the boys try and fumble with their waning hope.
> 
> But tension and danger threatens all they try to build.

"It's pitch black. How are we gunna fight that thing?" Keith asked aloud, bringing out his knife and hunching near the opening of their hut. Shiro stood where he was, his mind battling against bone stopping anxiety and a pull to action.

Lance reached for his own bayard, his breathing kind of bordering wheezy again, like it had the previous night. "S'fine, guys. I got this." He grumbled with a shaking voice. He felt scared, unsure. But something inside himself told him he could do this. Keith scoffed at Lance. "It's pitch black out there. What do you think you're doing?"

Despite the obvious doubt voiced by Keith, Lance laid himself down on his stomach by the front of their hut. He summoned his rifle, and then laid there as still as a pond frozen in time.

Shiro and Keith held their breath, occasionally peeking out from small openings and gaps in their makeshift hut. Suddenly, the sharp sound of a gun shot rang out.

They looked down at Lance, who seemed to have fired the laser loaded rifle into the infinite darkness. 

"Lance? How? What did you fire at?" Keith hissed as he leant closer to the Blue Paladin. Lance breathed unevenly, obviously uncomfortable laying the way he was. 

"Magic weapons, remember?" He murmured quietly, shaking, his one eye open and aimed through the scope. Keith then realized Lance must have activated some kind of heat sensor in the thing. It floored him sometimes, to see Lance act like a professional. He'd gone through countless missions with the guy. He just wasn't the sturdy, calm minded type. Smart as a tack sometimes, he'd give him that. But it was so few and far between, he often wondered if the guy took anything in his life seriously.

"How many are out there?" Keith asked instead, now settling down beside the other teen. 

"I dunno.. just saw the one. There could be some behind us for all I know."

It wasn't a comforting thought, but all three paladins held steady and waited for more noise. None came. Lance gulped, then dismissed his weapon after a few more minutes of waiting. He let out an exaggerated groan, letting his forehead hit the ground with a solid thunk.   
There. That sort of dramatic flair was much more Lance. It put Keith at ease, and he smiled while patting the other man's back. "Good job, Lance." The Cuban responded with a muffled grunt.

Shiro settled down too, sitting by the fire and giving it more branches to feed from. "In the morning we should get the body. We can use it for food, and maybe even it's fur for warmth if need be."

Keith looked back at Shiro with horror. "Do you really think we'll be stuck here that long?" He'd been holding out hope for a much speedier rescue. Perhaps he'd been a little too hopeful.

Shiro gave Keith a sympathetic look. "I hope not, but we need to take all precautions." He had to prepare for a worst case scenario where they weren't found for weeks. Months. Maybe more. His dark gaze flicked to Lance, who was still face planted on the floor. 

"Keith, can you help Lance get settled closer to the fire?" 

"M'fine." Lance bemoaned, and made no effort to move himself. Keith managed to get him to move after attempting to drag him there by force. After griping about Keith being mean and violent, Lance slumped by the fire. Shiro took in the teen's appearance.   
His pallor looked a little waxy. Bags hung heavy under his eyes. His eyes and nose were red. Yeah, Lance wasn't looking so good. Despite the whining and the heavy work he'd done all day, Shiro had just assumed the boy was being his usual dramatic self. However, Lance actually looked to be feeling worse than he let on. Turns out he'd been a bigger sport about their trials than he thought.

"Here, Lance. Have another helping of that cactus stuff." 

Lance made a face. "No. It's gross and makes me wanna vomit. Also, I already had my share." 

Shiro insisted, and Lance took a begrudging helping of the nasty pine flavoured fruit. Keith watched on from his own post, occasionally looking out at the darkness outside. Without Lance's scope, they had no means to see in this dark. But keeping Lance awake all night was a bad idea, even if he wasn't sick. They simply had to hope that one beast had been a rogue, and not a scout for a pack.

Lance begrudgingly laid by the fire after forcing down two small helpings of the alien cactus. He must have been exhausted, because he didn't make any more complaints before he fell into sleep.

"Shiro." Keith murmured, sitting close to the pair. Having them all close together was better to preserve body heat now that the night was getting colder. "How are you holding up?" He'd been wanting to ask this for the last two days. But with survival and a sick Lance to deal with, there just had not been time. 

Shiro gave a tired sigh. He wanted to play dumb with Keith, but the kid deserved better than that. Keith was smart. He was an adult, by most standards. More than that, Keith was his brother.

"To be honest, I'm using unhealthy coping methods to keep the worst of my mental distress at bay. Taking care of you and Lance made it a lot easier to shove all my issues into a tiny little bottle."

Keith took Shiro's morbidly dry answer with a pinch of salt. At the very least, Shiro was answering him honestly. Although he usually did, anyway. It just tended to be delivered with a dark sense of humour, or at worst with brief flippancy before changing the subject.

"Well maybe give that bottle a little bit of air." 

Shiro gave a sharp laugh, stifling it as soon as the sound made Lance stir in his sleep. "It might explode. It was under a lot of pressure."

"Are we talking about aerosol canisters, or you?" 

"Both?"

Keith gave a sigh. Honest answers, but they were still Shiro answers. Not that Keith had a right to judge others on cageyness. 

"Get some rest, Keith. I'll take watch." Keith huffed in annoyance. Shiro needed rest just as much as he did, if not more so. Keith was the least beat up of them all. On top of that, he didn't have the mental stress that the others did.

"Nice try, Shiro. We are going talk about what happened back at that facility." His gaze on Shiro did not waver. The older man let out a slow breath, his shoulders slouching slightly. 

"Trade you. I don't talk about it, and I let you take first watch."

Shiro's ultimatum was reasonable, for now. So Keith allowed it, watching Shiro sit back against the side of the warm oven and close his eyes. He knew he had to get the older man to talk at some point. Internalizing all of that trauma was going to bite them all in the ass. After all, from what the others had told him of the last few months; a lack of communication and a surplus of bottled emotions had led to Lance getting targeted by druids. Or so they said.

Speaking of Lance..

Keith eyed the darker skinned boy curled up on the ground. Other than being sick and bruised, he seemed okay. Then again, the more he thought about it, he hadn't seen Lance joke or smile all that much. He liked to believe it was due to the circumstances surrounding their predicament. Still, maybe he ought to keep a close eye on both Shiro and Lance.

\- - -

Shiro watched as copies of himself grinned over the bodies of his team, his family. Blood was cast about the castle's walls as dark shadows crept over corners, clawed over the skin of the fallen. The copies laughed, sinking into shadow as Allura pushed through a door, saw Shiro standing amid the chaos, and screamed out in betrayal.

He awoke with a scream dying on his throat, with Keith shaking him awake. He panted as sweat beaded down his temple, his heart racing with fear and shame. "I-it's fine, Keith. I'm okay." He tried to shove the smaller man away, but Keith stayed close.  
"Shiro, what happened?" He knew he'd had a nightmare, but of what nature, who was to say. Shiro shook his head, then looked down and saw Lance awake as well, crouched as he peered up at Shiro's face, wrought with shock and concern.

"I'm fine, guys. Just a bad dream."

Lance frowned, "Nuh uh. Bad dreams don't make you scream bloody murder in the middle of the night." 

"Fine. Nightmare. We all get them."

The boys both huffed in annoyance, mirroring each other's posture that dripped of impatience. Shiro had to smile despite the vivid closeness the nightmare had on his heart. Keith and Lance obviously cared about him, and their twinned irritation aimed at him was sincerely amusing. 

Lance was the next to speak, after a series of emotions seemed to play over his features. He obviously had a lot of feelings about whatever had just happened. "Shiro.. you sounded like you were in pain. You scared us." His sharp blue eyes pinned Shiro down. "What the heck happened?"

Shiro looked from Lance to Keith. They were both over worried about him, and he wasn't keen on showing them just how fractured and broken he was. He needed to be strong. He couldn't stand to think that these boys would have to take care of him, or worry after his condition. Yet, he was already at that point. Space had broken him. Shattered who he was, mixed up all the pieces and glued them into a husk of a soldier. He would not subject two teenagers to what had become of him. They dealt with enough cold hard reality as Paladins. 

Shiro breathed a sigh. There wasn't much more he could hide from them, he supposed.

"I dreamed.. of those clones we saw. I saw your bodies on the floor. And Allura thought I had killed you." He tried to keep it brief and clinical. Keep it at a far distance from his vulnerability. But it was hard. After all, his worst fear was something he kept just behind the tip of his tongue; what if he was one of those Shiros? What if he was a monster? A tool to be used for murder and chaos? He was afraid he'd lose his autonomy at any given moment. Afraid his freedom of will was an illusion.

"See? Just a bad dream." He repeated to the two faces staring at him with sympathy and pain. 

"Shiro, c'mon." Keith growled, gripping his own knees in keyed up frustration. "Me and Lance heard you. It was the sound of your heart breaking. What aren't you telling us?"

Keith was becoming way more perceptive than Shiro cared to admit. And Lance was giving him the same sort of stink eye. 

"Guys, we don't have time for this." Shiro insisted, trying desperately to keep his patience from wavering. He felt defensive, sitting in the splash zone of two teenager's critical doubts.

"You don't know that. Heck, we could be here for decapheobs." Lance said with a nonchalance that would have sounded like a joke if the three of them weren't worried it was true. "Fine, you don't wanna talk about it? Well, I do." 

Lance's firm stance stunned Shiro, and even Keith.

"I wanna know what those clones were. I wanna know what those druids meant when they said those things to you." Lance leaned his hands on his knees, his steady gaze piercing into Shiro's. "Is that what's bugging you? Cause it'd bug me. I'd have questions! I'd be concerned!"

Shiro grimaced, thinning his lips in a tight sealed line. Lance wanted them all to be more open. Lance himself wore his heart on his sleeve, as far as Shiro could tell. He sometimes envied that openness. 

"Shiro, I know you don't remember this.. but you talked to me a lot when I was feeling down. Or.. you did, anyway. Past tense. Before Lotor came like the home wrecker he is." Lance's face soured at the mention of the Space Prince, but he marched on anyway.  
"So anyway, you talked me out of a lot of low points. You made me feel seen. You made me feel valid. You did all that for me, and it helped a lot at the time, even if things kind of got out of hand despite all you did for me."

He gave Keith a look, and seemed to deflate ever so subtly. Or at least subtle for Lance.

"So like.. you don't have to open up to me.. but at least let Keith help you. Since.. you know.. you guys know each other better." He squirmed a bit uncomfortably, looking around their shabby little hut. "I'll take a walk tomorrow, and you two sort it out. Take a mental health day, or whatever."

Shiro felt his resolve soften. Lance was amazingly good at talking empathetically to others, even an adult like him. Shiro wondered if Lance knew this; if he knew just how big his heart was, if he knew how good of a friend he was. Not just anybody could connect to people like he did, and speak in a way that made someone feel known, and simultaneously put them back on track. The soldier let himself smile, and gave a nod.

"Okay Lance. Only because you seem so insistent on it." 

Lance looked shocked, like he didn't expect Shiro to take him seriously. Keith looked relieved.

The light of dawn was slowly creeping over the horizon. Dark shapes formed the landscape outside their hovel, such as the cacti, the dead logs, and even the mound that was surely the dead creature from earlier that night. 

"Well, looks like it's already close to morning." Shiro changed the subject none too subtly, but he'd already promised to talk later. Keith and Lance took that for what it was. "Lance, did you sleep okay? How's that cold?"

Lance raised a brow, perturbed to be considered a slight liability. "I'm fine. Sore throat, headache, sweaty flight suit, dirty hair, gross cactus after taste on my tongue, and also my back is killing me."

There was silence.

"So, yanno. Peachy."

Keith smirked. "Thanks for the sarcasm, Lance."

Lance grinned back. "You're welcome!" He preened back chirpily. 

\- - - 

The boulder turned water basin outside their hut was perfect for refreshing themselves. The still rain water was used to wash faces, and clean injuries; which kept their small supplies of water aside purely for drinking. For reasons neither Lance or Shiro wanted to dwell on, Keith knew how to skin and take apart an animal. As such, he was tasked with the bloody endeavour of salvaging their late night kill for parts. 

Shiro sat far from the two teens in a meditative state, trying to connect with the Black Lion from afar, and failing. 

Lance still felt like crap. Physically, mentally. Just utter crap. He was constantly uncomfortable. His throat burned, his joints were sore, and he felt tired despite having slept most of the night. As such, neither Keith nor Shiro tasked him with any kind of job, other than 'feel better'.   
He wished he wasn't unwell. He wanted them to rely on him, to admire him and to see potential and strength in him. But like all other missions past, he seemed to be the weak link. The odd man out. The fifth wheel. Shiro and Keith were a power team. They'd known each other for years; a fact that bristled Lance's nerves. He wished he could have known Shiro like Keith did. Wished he had Shiro's eye, his attention, his veneration. He wanted, at the very least, to be considered an equal.

But wasn't that just a normal day in Lance land?

Most of his trials lately had stemmed from that very thing. He'd told himself he shouldn't need the approval of others, their esteem or commendation. That he should act without expecting external approval. To follow his own heart, and be okay with himself as an army of one.

But he wasn't. He wanted approval, he wanted glory and attention. 

With these thoughts circling his mind, he thought of home. 

He wanted his comfortable bed, in his room that was painted with his personality and aesthetic flair. That screamed of his interests and wrapped him in a sense of sturdy self assurance. He wanted his wardrobe, full of fun clothing that wasn't dirty. He wanted a shower.  
He wanted his mother; stern, yet warm and so open. Of her big, soft hugs. Murmurs of confidence and acceptance whispered into his hair. Of slaps to the side of his head when he got too lethargic or arrogant. Of laughter from his siblings. Of swapping stories with his father.

God Damnit all. He missed home.

He sat near by the base, holding his stomach as the stress of homesickness boiled his insides raw. It was bad enough trying to save the universe, wondering when he'd see home. Now the thought that stuck to him struck pain and fear into his heart; what if he never saw home? It was a reality too painful to consider.

Damn it. He wanted his mother here. Right now.

"Hey, Lance?" Keith asked conversationally, flopping down in front of the sulking teen with reddened fingers and a great deal of hastily cleaned carnage down the front of his armour. Lance stared at Keith with unveiled horror stuck on his pointed face. 

Keith raised a brow, then looked down at his attire. "Oh... um.." The black haired boy suddenly seemed slightly self conscious. "Sorry.."

"What do you want, mullet?" Lance asked wearily, leaning his elbows on his knees, and his chin in his hands. 

"I was just gunna ask for a hand, but maybe not." After all, Lance didn't seem the roughened country boy type. Lance, for his credit, tried not to look squeamish at the offer. After all, being asked for help at all felt like a compliment.

"Er.. with what?" 

Keith gave Lance another once over. He looked worse now than he did before. But this seemed less like being ill, and more like feeling sad. Yes. Sadness. That's what he saw in Lance's eyes when he'd approached.

"Just.. curing the meat and hanging the skins to dry.." Maybe he'd ask Shiro for help instead.. For now, though. "You okay, man?"

Lance shrugged. "You know me." He murmured, moving one hand to draw idle circles in the dirt. "Chillaxin' in these killer rays."

Keith glanced up at the cloudy sky and frowned. Maybe Lance was being sarcastic again, because there was no visible sun to speak of. "Ookay.. But, you seem a bit.." He rolled his wrist to press the thought outward, "Down?"

Lance levelled Keith with an impatient glare. "Um. Yeah. We're stuck on a-"

"Not what I meant, Lance. For someone who wanted Shiro to open up, you sure don't seem to be quite as willing to do the same."

"So, what? Are you a confession box now?" Lance snarked back, his own defence mechanisms kicking into gear. Of all people to appear vulnerable to, Keith was last on the list. It was bad enough he admitted to Shiro he'd opened up to him in the past. Letting others see him as weak or unfit was a worst case scenario. And Keith? Well, he was a text book portrait of capable. 

Keith got irritated, giving up on Lance and leaving the sulking teen to his own devices. Lance watched him leave, and suddenly felt alone. Maybe he should have let Keith in on something. Anything. But now all he had was the image of his back turned.

Damnit.

Lance got himself to his feet and followed, catching up with Keith where the other man was settling up an area to dry and cure the disembodied beast. It was a scene from a horror movie, and Lance actually gagged, turning away to hold his hands to his mouth and nose.

"Lance? You followed me.." Keith sounded surprised, maybe a tiny bit delighted. He clapped Lance on the shoulder, the jostling making Lance gag again.

"Oh.. right. Guess maybe this job isn't good for someone who's sick, huh?"

Lance looked back at Keith with an exasperated expression. "This job isn't good for anyone. I think I'd gag even on a good day."

"Then why'd you come?" His eyes were wide with hope, and it left Lance feeling humble. Keith was surprisingly forthright with him, it seemed.

Lance cast his eyes down, peeling his hands from his mouth. "I guess.. to keep you company. Or something."

"You're lonely." Keith's assumption was blunt, and left Lance sputtering to deflect it.

"No! I-....I..." He huffed, his shoulders deflating. "Yeah, okay. I'm lonely. And homesick.. and sick-sick." He glanced at Keith again, looking for some inclination of a devolving opinion of him from Keith. 

"Oh.." Keith murmured, letting his hand fall from Lance's shoulder. "Home sick, huh?" He squirmed a little, uncomfortable with the topic, but wanting desperately to connect; to help. "Do you.. wanna talk about it?"

Lance thought about it, softly crossing his arms and casting his gaze out on the grim, murky sky. "I miss my mom." He admitted, his voice far away and soft. "Her hugs. Her voice. My whole family, too. But.. especially Mom."

Keith nodded. He often missed his dad. He'd been young when he lost him, but faded memories did persist, of a small family life he'd once had. So much had happened after, that such memories were lost to a torrential onslaught of pain and suppression. So, to imagine how Lance felt? It was difficult to find any comparrison. 

"I.. don't know what that's like. I never knew my mom." Keith murmured in admission, anxiously wringing his hands. Lance looked back at Keith, feeling his heart clench in painful sympathy. Keith had always been closed off and mysterious. Lance had never thought of what his home life had been like. Never questioned it.

Lance decided to keep talking, since Keith looked awkward about admitting what he did. "I'm just scared I'll never see her again. And I just wish.. so badly, that my running off into space didn't hurt her as much as I know it did. I'm scared for her, and I'm scared for me."

Keith looked at Lance with a new sense of respect. "You have a big heart, Lance. I bet she does too. I bet that's where you get it from." He offered Lance a smile, warm and from his heart. Lance felt the cage he'd tried to put around his feelings let loose, that disarming smile making him feel warm and bubbly. He smiled back, genuine and without barbs.

"Thank you, Keith. That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

Keith shrugged. "Yeah, well.. we aren't exactly nice to each other." Lance gave a small laugh. "Yeah. Guess not."

"Look, Lance.. I'm not much of a hugger.. or touchy in any way. But.. if it'd make you feel better-"

Keith grunted as he felt Lance squeeze him in a hug. They both smelled a little weird, thanks to their extended vacation on planet wasteland, and Lance's grip was shaky due to weakness. However, it was filled with intention. An intention to thank, to connect. Keith slowly hugged him back, his own grip tentative and uncertain, like he was sure Lance would need to pull away if he clung too close.

Lance let out a shaky breath, his gaze cast down at the ground just behind Keith (and pointedly away from the carnage he'd left behind). "You and Shiro are great, but you guys don't do 'touch'." He observed with much annoyance. "With Hunk, I can football tackle him in the hall, or hang off him during meetings, or poke him to get his attention. But with you two? I don't know where I stand. I never know where the line is. It makes me feel so..." Lance cut himself off. He was revealing too much. To Keith of all people. He needed to walk away from this with some semblance of pride.

Keith started to understand what Lance was saying. Touch, hugs, physical contact was how the boy connected. Was how he felt human. Whereas Keith treated it with trepidation and fear. He had a million reasons for being this way. None of which he cared to dwell on. He didn't need touch the way Lance did. He didn't ned physical reassurance of someone's presence to feel grounded. 

Lance sniffled, and at first Keith thought he might be crying. But then..

"Keith, you stink."

Keith sputtered, "Excuse me? I though we were bonding here!"

"Also, you're getting gore all over my pretty white armour and--"

Keith punched him in the stomach, earning a grunt from Lance. "Ouch! Buddy!" He whined aloud, turning it around and locking Keith's neck under his arm. What had started as a somewhat awkward hug was now childish roughhousing.

"I thought you were sick!" Keith growled as Lance gave him a noogie.

"Says the asshole who punched me in the stomach!"

The ruckus earned Shiro's attention as he went looking for the boys, finding them rolling around with punches, flips, grabs and flailing limbs. 

"Come on, guys. Break it up." Shiro clapped his hands together to get their attention. He wasn't terribly concerned, though. After all, through the cloud of dust the pair had made, he could see flashes of smiles and the strangled barks of laughter. Things had been tense, but maybe a little friendly roughhousing was just what the doctor ordered.

\- - -

They were having meat for dinner. After almost three days of small cactus portions, they were about to eat something of substance. Laid out on flat rocks within the makeshift Oven-Thingy(TM), slabs of meat sizzled unevenly. Lance looked at it with scrutiny. 

"Needs some seasoning." He murmured as he picked at his chapped lips. 

"Well, you go check that herb garden of yours." Keith grumbled nearby, laid out on his back as he stared into space. 

"Hah hah. Funny. If there were anything herb-like on this planet, I wouldn't be able to tell it apart from ragweed." Maybe if Hunk was here, he thought to himself. Yes, Hunk could make a five star meal out of nothing. Oh.. now he missed Hunk again. His laughter, his smile.. even his horrific puns. 

Wouldn't they ever get home? If only they had the lions..

"Shiro.. any luck in calling Black?" Lance asked conversationally, pushing down the ache his train of thought had led him to. Shiro gave a deep sigh, poking at the cooking meat with a metal finger. 

"No. Not even a small feeling of them." Honestly, he was worried. He'd not ridden Black down to that space station with the clones. He was beginning to confirm some suspicions that perhaps he was not himself anymore. That something had broken between himself and the Lion.  
"Keith?" Shiro looked to the ornery Red Paladin, who sat some distance from Shiro and Lance.

"Nope. Nothing. But I haven't been a proper Paladin in a long time, so..." 

"Right.." Shiro gazed at Keith for some time, worrying about poking the nest of whatever drama might rest behind closed doors. He'd been given a rundown of why Keith left. That didn't make it easy to swallow. He wanted to ask, wanted to clarify. After all, he'd told Keith to take care of the team if he ever...  
But then he'd come back, or so they said. But was the Shiro who fought Zarkon the same Shiro who they had found in space? Was.. was he not the real Shiro?

He took in a shaking breath, holding down a terrible pain in his heart. 

Lance's voice suddenly broke from his internal war, "Maybe if we toss Keith off a cliff-" was how he started his sentence, which earned alarmed concern from the two men.

"What.. why would we do that?" Keith asked with shock.

"Well.. didn't Red always come barreling to save you over every paper cut? Or does Black not do that?"

The two of them looked Lance over, trying to reason if the lanky teen was pulling their leg with this theory. Lance stared back, then slowly shrugged. "Just a suggestion."

Keith huffed, angrily picking at the dirt and grime on his suit. He usually didn't care much about getting a little dirty, but now he was praying for a shower and clean dry, clothes. He couldn't imagine how a guy like Lance, who was so particular about hygiene, would be handling all this. Not well, he guessed. Lance had complained a few times about it, but after three days here, the boy was complaining less and less. 

"I'm not throwing myself into danger just to test a theory." Keith grumbled, even though he felt Lance had probably only suggested it to fill the silence. Proven right, he watched as Lance once again shrugged it off. 

"Food's up." Shiro sounded off cheerfully, handing each Paladin a slab of cooked meat. Keith ate it like he'd not eaten in days; true. Shiro ate it at a respectable pace. Lance took small nibbles of it, which was uncharacteristic. Sure, he wasn't always as enthusiastic as Keith, save for the one dinner they had together back on Aris. Still, he must be starving, yet he looked like each bite was nauseating.

"Lance, eat your food." Keith griped, finishing off his helping and licking his fingers clean. 

Lance grumbled, chewing for an overly long time. Shiro paused in his own meal to give the boy a concerned look. "You feeling okay, Lance? I know you're sick and all, but food should be helping. Is it the taste?"

Lance shook his head. His eyes looked tired, downcast. He still wasn't answering them. The pair wondered inwardly if they should leave him be or not. If Lance wanted to be depressed, he had every right. Maybe they ought to leave him to his thoughts.

Shiro finished his food, then set to work on his helmet again, searching for ways to contact the team. Keith watched Lance set aside the barely eaten slab of meat.

"Lance.." He was going to scold him, but the lanky teen ignored him. He laid down on his side, his back to Keith. Something was obviously wrong. The Red Paladin didn't know if it was illness, injury, or something that he had very little tact with; emotions. Maybe Lance was feeling homesick again? After all, they were stuck on a seemingly permanent camping trip on a nearly desolate planet. But Lance always bounced back. Given time, he'd be back to his old self.

"Just.. drink some water before you sleep." Keith murmured, more care in his tone than he knew he was capable of. Lance grunted softly in response, but made no move to acquiesce. 

Sometime later, he and Shiro met outside the hut, staring out at the darkening sky. 

"We need to get off of this planet." Keith murmured, crossing his arms to grant himself some comfort. 

"I know." Shiro gave a sigh, running a hand through his bangs. "We're not doing too bad, all things considered.. But I'm worried for Lance. His morale has been a bit shaky. And who knows what's going on out there without Voltron."

Keith nodded, glaring at one star in particular that he decided deserved his wrath. "I just can't believe it's taking so long. When you and I were stuck on that one planet after that wormhole malfunctioned.. Voltron found us within a day." He frowned deeper, replaying the horrid events on that planet vividly in his mind. That had been the first time he'd piloted Black.. that had been when Shiro had asked him to one day lead Voltron.

"The druids must have really done a number on us. I'm worried for the rest of the team. God, I hope they're okay."

A muffled sound caught their attention. Looking around, figures were circling the camp.

"Oh no.." Keith whispered.

Suddenly, what had been a quiet night erupted in wild shrieks and violence. Tusked beasts were ripping through their camp, attacking the paladins with malice and anger. Maybe they'd smelled the scent of their fallen brethren here. Lance came running from the small hut, now falling to pieces. He joined Shiro and Keith, as all three summoned their bayards. 

"What the Quiznak is happening!?" Lance cried out, firing at a beast that had soared at him from afar. It yelped as it hit the ground, the wound only mildly startling it. 

"They might be out for revenge. We have to run! Visors up!" Shiro commanded, and all three had their helmets on and fully covering their faces. "Run for the forest! Maybe the fog is unsafe for the beasts too!"

They all fled, with Lance bringing up the rear and firing when he could.

They scaled up the steep cliffside, and with some relief, found that the beasts would not follow. They stopped at the forest's edge, sitting on the cliffside and breathing heavily.

"No.. no fog.." Shiro huffed, scanning their immediate surroundings. "Must.. come in waves.." Or perhaps it only permeated near the centre. 

They took off their helmets for the time being, all three gazing down at the creatures that circled their camp, tearing apart what semblance of a life they'd tried to make. All that work, fallen within minutes. Danger truly lurked at every turn here.

A choked sound suddenly struck out between laboured breaths. Keith and Shiro looked between them to see Lance hunched over, the palms of his hands pressed over his eyes. Was... he wasn't crying, was he? A little drawback like this was normal for Paladins.

But he _was_ crying. Stifled as it was due to pride, he was definitely fighting tears. His breaths were sharp, his nose constantly sniffling back snot. 

"Lance.." Keith felt bewildered, not quite grasping the magnitude of emotion welling from Lance. Even when the teen had let Keith in on some of his homesickness, he'd not seen any sign the hurt might be any deeper.

"I just-" Lance hiccuped, horribly frustrated with himself. "I can't--" He gasped again, struggling in vain to hold back whatever flood he had behind the dam of turmoil. "I can't take it anymore." He gasped, still trying desperately to hide his dismay and frustration.

Shiro, ever calm despite his own frayed nerves, laid a hand on the small of Lance's back. His shoulders were too heavily armoured to be grounding with contact. It seemed the best place to offer physical comfort. "I know Lance. It's overwhelming. But we'll get through this."

Lance let out a sob that had been too powerful to cold back. His cheeks coloured in shame, his fingers coming up to dig into his own hair. "We'll never get out of here." He choked out, "I wanna go home. I hate this." His voice barely came out, restricted by thick presence of despaired cries. Both Keith and Shiro were taken aback. They'd never heard such despair and heartbreak coming from Lance. He'd always been so bubbly. Moreover, they'd never really heard Lance sound so genuine with his feelings. No bravado, or arrogance, or empty whining. No attempts to cover real worry with dramatic antics. It was just pain and misery, straight from his heart. 

Lance wanted to go _home_. He wanted comfort and safety. And if his sorrow was any indication, he was losing hope he'd ever see it again. Keith didn't know what a real home felt like. Shiro hadn't thought of his own in ages. But each of them felt Lance's woeful homesickness like a punch in the gut. It was hard not to. 

Keith reached out, putting an arm around Lance's shoulders, and resting his forehead against his shoulder. Shiro brought his free arm around to hug them both.

"I'm sorry, guys." He murmured to the teens, his chin resting on Lance's head. He felt their weariness and hopelessness through their shared bond, with Keith's stoic, reserved pain.. with Lance's bleeding heart etched on his sleeve. They were all mourning something, separately and privately. But they needed each other right now, out in this wasteland, deserted and abandoned by the universe. It would not do to try and survive alone.

They were a team. A family. If they were going to survive? They had to do this right. 

"No more pride." He murmured to the boys, "No more secrets and walls. We need each other. We're all in pain." He met Keith's eyes as the latter looked up from Lance's shoulder. Yes, he'd been keeping his own scars from his brother. Keith had seen it. Now? It was time to be open, if he was to get Lance and Keith to be more open with him. Time to be the role model they all thought he was.

"This situation stinks, but.. we have each other. If you're having doubts, or if you just need comfort? Don't be afraid to talk about it. Lance?" Shiro nudged the teen, who had quieted somewhat. Lance sniffed miserably, rubbing tears from his face as he gave Shiro a side glance. "If you're homesick.. if you're not feeling well? Don't be afraid to tell me. I'd never judge you. We're all human here..." He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile, despite his last statement driving a knife into his throat. Human.. was he himself human though? This was a worry he'd kept from his team..

Lance's breakdown had to have been a long time coming, from the way the dark skinned teen had struggled to hold back. Not to mention how sullen he'd been lately, save for the play fight he and Keith had earlier that day. "I'm going to be more forward with you two as well. I need your strength just as much as I've lent you mine. I've.. not been doing well.. ever since that facility. Maybe even before that."

This earned a look of gratification from Keith, though it was mildly subdued with worry. He'd been right, after all. Shiro had issues, and they needed to be talked about. Lance looked surprised, concerned. "Is it the clones?"

Shiro was taken aback by Lance's lack of tact. That was more of a Keith thing. The ordeal they'd just had must have loosened his lips a bit.

"Yes. Among other things." Shiro cleared his throat. "I.. I feel.." He looked up at the blanket of stars beginning to dust the sky. The only light came from the dying fire below, and the pink at the bare edges of the horizon. 

He heaved a sigh. "I worry, night after night, that I might not even be human. That I might not even be the real Shiro." He dared not look to the boys. He worried what they'd see in him now. "I've dreamt of my body being taken over again. Of.. murdering everyone I love. Of finding you both dead in my arms. I worry endlessly that everything I feel right now is just manufactured. That at any moment.. my autonomy will be compromised."

He looked down at his hands. They trembled with fear. His throat tightened. 

"My memories are patchy, but I've been slowly remembering little things from after Zarkon. Like waking up in a facility.. of escaping.. but not before seeing a different me on a table, and I just.."

His breath came in sharp. "Was.. was that the real Shiro? Am I truly just a copy?"

Gods.. if he was a clone.. If he wasn't even human anymore.. So much he'd lost already. He couldn't bear it.

Lance's hand gently wrapped behind Shiro's neck. He inhaled deeply, then looked down at the Cuban. He couldn't see much of him in the waning light, but his red rimmed eyes were bright with shed tears. 

"Shiro? I don't think it matters.." Shiro's brow furrowed, his heart racing on the edge of a fallout. "Cause.. it wouldn't make you a monster either way.. Clone or not.. you feel emotion. You formed bonds.. you've said kind and wonderful things to me. No one made you do that. That was all you. I think anything bad that happened to you is the druids fault. Anything bad or cruel.. it was them."

Lance worriedly looked down, afraid he wasn't doing a proper job of helping his hero, his friend, his family.

"You're real, Shiro. We love you." He looked up placatingly at his hero, his face warm with embarrassment. Keith leaned over to be seen, his dark brows knit with pain. 

"Shiro." He croaked, his own emotions and fears bleeding out in his voice. "I don't want you to feel this way.. if.. even if you aren't.." He hissed back a sob. Keith was now terrified. What if it was true? What if his Shiro.. his brother, was still out there? Alone? Afraid? In trouble?

But this Shiro in front of him.. he needed him.. he..

Keith swallowed thickly. "Even if.. you aren't Shiro.." He murmured miserably, his throat pained, his eyes burning. Flashes of the kind hearted, dark haired mentor that had been like family wove through his mind. The man who'd taken him from the bottom dregs of the foster system to a life with a future. He'd lost so much of the man he'd known back then. But then again, time was cruel to all who wandered through it's paths. 

"Shiro, I love you, okay? That hasn't changed." He grit his teeth, his hands grasping at his knees. "You're my brother. My family." He thought of his dad, small and faded memories of a brave figure who'd left him too soon. "I don't wanna lose you.. So please be strong."

Shiro felt a lofty weight press into his chest, a burning from behind his eyes. 

"How the Hell did I get so lucky?" He croaked, staring at the two boys who loved him unconditionally, no matter what sort of patched together experiment he'd become. A family found through strife. He grasped the two boys tightly to him once more, all three now just as emotional as the next. 

Stuck on a planet, hunted by wild beasts, and no means of calling for help.

Yes, it seemed horribly hopeless. Futile, even.

But by God.. hope was rising again. Strong as the bonds that held them together. They'd be even stronger once they made it out. Shiro was sure of it. No matter what he was, he would never let this family go. This family made him what he was. He would save them. He would protect them.

"I'll get you boys home. I swear it."


	3. The Forest that Dwells in Grey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having lost their camp, the boys are contacted from someone far away.

No one slept. With their helmets on, and full face visors activated, the trio laid under the canopy of grey trees as the darkness rolled over them. Some plants seemed to glow; a side product of the poisonous fog, no doubt. It gave off the slightest light, allowing the paladins to see outlines and forms around them. It was a monochrome world, silent and dead.

A crackling in their helmets shook them from their quiet ruminating. All three sat up immediately. "Hello?" Shiro asked through the static comm link, desperate for any contact from the outside. 

The static stopped, and in the centre of their little circle, a grainy projection of Pidge appeared. Lance gasped, sitting up straighter. "Pidge! Pidge, that you?"

Pidge flinched, and looked around at the three of them.

"Oh my God, you guys are okay." Pidge seemed relieved, and her image flickered in and out. "I don't have much time before the next jump. Where are you?"

Jump? The three boys gave each other a look, wondering what Pidge meant and if they had time to ask about it.

"We uh.. we don't know. Our scans don't do much for long range. Just enough for plant life and atmospheric changes." Keith replied, looking through his bracer's computer app to see if anything had changed on that front.

"It's super grey, super dead-ish, and prehistoric sabre tooth tigers wanna kill us." Lance put in helpfully, suppressing a cough. "Oh yeah, and sometimes death-fogs." Though he hadn't come across it since his first day...

Pidge frowned, madly tapping at the screen of her bracer. "Okay.. not much to go on, but maybe I can check an intergalactic data-base on flora and fauna and see what comes up through cross referencing."

Her image flickered again.

"Me and Hunk's armour got compromised during that druid attack. We keep getting punted across the galaxy at about one varga intervals. We're trying to contact Allura and the castle, but it's difficult with our scanners being on the fritz. Hold on tight guys. We're gunna find you."

Pidge's image was now violently flickering in and out. The team held their breath, taking in what little they could of their lost friend's face.

She gave a wavering smile. She was determined, despite the hardship.

"I gotta go. Please hang on."

Her image was gone. A sudden and deafening silence left in her wake. The boys slowly deflated as time wore on. 

"The druids.. did a number on us all." Shiro murmured, slouching in thought. "Imagine getting tossed around the galaxy, never knowing where you'd end up next."

They all breathed in shakily. It was only a short interaction, and it left many questions unanswered. But..

"She's alive.. so is Hunk." Lance murmured, suppressing another cough. "That's one thing to be thankful for. If only we knew if Coran and Allura were okay."

"I wonder how Pidge managed to send us that projection." Keith wondered aloud, "She said she can't find our location.."

Lance gave a shrug. "Iunno.. Lion Bond mumbo jumbo? Or hacked the magical-mojo of our armour?"

"Maybe." Shiro looked out at the dark, unfathomable sky above. Stars had been blocked out by clouds and the thick canopy of trees. "No sense thinking too hard about it. She's a smart girl. Smarter than any of us."

Lance smiled to himself. "Yeah. She is." He'd often felt out shined by the likes of Pidge, Hunk and all the others. But he'd been coming to understand that there were simply some things he and the others could and couldn't do. It made it that much easier to feel proud of his friends for their strengths.

"So. The plan." Shiro clapped his hands together, clearing the air of their recent news. "I don't think setting up a new camp is a good idea. Not if it makes us a target."

Keith disagreed, "But if we fortify it, we can fight back. We have our bayards. We were just blindsided, that's all. Besides, I dunno if Lance should be moving more than necessary." 

"Hey!" Lance scoffed. "I'm just as capable as any of you. It's just a cold!"

"For now." Keith murmured. "It could get worse. And our bad diet lately won't help you get better."

Shiro thought about this, and Keith gave him time to think. Silence permeated around them like a fog. He thought of Lance's injuries from his fall, which seemed to include bruised ribs or something similar, if his trouble breathing had been any indicator. Not to mention fluctuations in temperature, and what sounded to him as a developing cough. None of those things would be trouble in a safe environment, where a little bed rest and warm soup would help his health along. But out here..

"If we can find a better fortified area, we'll try a base again." Shiro said, looking over at Keith. "But I'd prefer to keep moving. It'll help us map this place out, and we may even come across new resources. Lance? You must let us know when you need to rest."

"Yeah, okay." Lance grumbled, but Shiro kept staring.

"Lance. Promise me. I need your word you'll be upfront and honest."

Lance squirmed under his gaze, looking at anything but Shiro or Keith. He didn't like this. He really, really didn't like this. Every atom in his being wanted to show them how dependable he was. Wanted to boast and preen and show off. But this situation was making him feel small. Made him feel a burden. A dark, twisted and self depreciating part of him wished they'd just leave him behind. Maybe he'd been better off as Haggar's little experiment all along..

"I'll try." He murmured, glaring out at the thick foliage around them. 

Shiro huffed a breath out through his nose. That wasn't a promise. Not in the least. Lance's pride was something Shiro understood, but it would be detrimental to the teenager's health if he pushed himself. He also felt guilty and worried. Why did Lance feel the need to push himself? Yes, they were in a situation that demanded they push their boundaries in order to survive. Maybe it really was just that sort of obligation that had Lance doing this. Any complaints he did have were always trivial, and made only to hear the sound of his own voice. But for something more serious, he seemed to downplay or ignore it altogether. 

Maybe he was looking too deep into it. It was, after all, a means to ignore his own pressing weight of horror at his own revelations. He'd lamented to Keith and Lance already about his worries. For now, it would have to do. None of them had answers, and they were all trapped here, unable to seek the truth. 

After a few hours, they finally found themselves too drained to stay awake.

\- - -

That morning, they set off through the forest, visors on full. It was much of the same things over and over. Keith made notches in the trees to mark their path. Lance shot lasers at the ground every few feet to mark a path. Shiro cut down any thick bushes or foliage in their way with his hand. 

Hours ticked by.

Keith looked back, and found Lance was falling behind somewhat. "Lance? Hurry up, man." He said it as casually as he could manage, not wishing to agitate Lance's attitude. Lance huffed from far away, and jogged to catch up.

It was hard to see through the visor, but the Cuban seemed worn out. 

"You good?" Keith asked, having waited for Lance to reach him before setting off again. He knew Lance wasn't likely to let him or Shiro know when he was reaching his limit. Still, he gave the man the option of coming clean on his own.

"Fine.." He mumbled behind his visor, walking slowly by Keith's side, his gait becoming sluggish and off balance.

"You need a break." Keith responded quietly, to keep their voices private from Shiro, who was well ahead of them. 

Lance groaned, moving to wipe sweat away from his face, but blocked out by his helmet. "I know.." He admitted weakly, "But we haven't made any headway. No food, no water, no shelter. This place is worse than the plains were."

"Lance. Don't wait for us to make progress before you take a break. It could be all day."

Lance finally stopped walking of his own accord, wavering in place. His shoulders sagged, and it hurt Keith to see Lance look so defeated and depressed. When he spoke, his voice came out low, ashamed. Bitter. "Okay.. I need a break. You win."

Keith frowned, clasping his hand around the back of Lance's neck, grip just firm enough to give a grounding comfort. "I didn't win anything." He assured him. "Shiro!" He called out, earning the older man's attention from afar.

"We're taking a break." He called out, watching as Shiro jogged back to their position. 

"Good. I was just getting tired." He lied for Lance's sake, though unsure if said lie even worked. He scanned the area, then took off his helmet, running a hand through the white tuft of hair. "The air here is clear right now. Let's all sit down and get some fresh air."

They did so, removing their helmets and setting them down beside themselves. All three were sweating from the long hike, but Lance seemed to be beating them at just how much. He leaned his arms on his crossed legs, hunched over as he caught his breath. None of them had any water left, having left most of it back at the destroyed base camp. At this rate, Lance would be the first to succumb to dehydration. Just how much longer would they be stuck here? Pidge's brief contact had given them some hope grounded in reality. However, their situation was not ideal. They might not be saved in time. Or at all.

Lance hissed, clutching his stomach and holding his breath. Both Shiro and Keith stopped their ruminating and held their own breaths too. After a moment, Lance breathed out, but remained hunched over.

"Hunger pain?" Keith asked cautiously, not wanting to poke the bee's nest of Lance's pride. He never seemed to take well to being reminded of how much of a liability he was becoming. He didn't blame him. 

Lance shook his head. All three were hungry, having not eaten since the day before. Less so was Lance, who'd not even finished his meal that fated night. 

Shiro looked at the top of Lance's head with concern, since his face was hidden from view. He knew the illness might be more than just a cold, since its origin was linked to the fog from their first day on the planet. Then again..

"Um.. Lance? Were you scratched at all when you fell off that cliff?" He'd remembered seeing a lot of strange flora when they'd climbed it on their escape from the beasts. The entire forest was filled with poisonous plants, a fact known thanks to many scans during their hike. 

Lance looked up then, his eyes red rimmed from strain. "Huh? Yeah, I guess.." 

"Let me see." Shiro demanded firmly. Lance blinked slowly, his eyes narrowing as he tried to keep Shiro in focus. 

"S'cuse me?" He mumbled, tilting his head lazily to the side. "Like.. strip down or what? I know I'm a hot commodity, but this ain't a peep show."

Shiro fought the need to laugh. Of course Lance would turn it into a sex joke. The kid was sick, tired and feeling defensive, so naturally he would try and deflect with humour. He'd never admit it, but Lance's brand of humour was a lot like his own when he was his age.

"No, Lance." Grimacing back his smile and rubbing his hands over his face to hide it. "Just.. come here a second."

Lance huffed and shifted over so he was sitting in front of Shiro. The Black Paladin composed himself and took in Lance's attire. There were multiple tears in the under-suit that he'd been ignoring until now. He peeled back the material on them one back one, looking for signs of infection. Lance didn't stop him, and was accommodating despite his earlier joking.

Most of the scratches were healing over nicely. Perhaps Lance had only gotten scuffed up from stones and dirt. If they were lucky, his exhaustion was just a result of over exertion and an empty belly.

One cut on his side seemed red and irritated. An infection. It had been days since Lance's fall, and it was likely he wasn't in too much hot water. After all, it wasn't leaking or discoloured in any way. That had to account for something, right? It was plausible that this cut's minor infection had nothing to do with Lance's symptoms.

"I still think you guys are overreacting about all this." Lance grumbled, "I know I was whining a lot yesterday and the day before. But I swear, shamefully I admit, that it was entirely for attention. Okay? You got me. Guilty and-"

"Lance." Shiro cut off Lance's babbling, giving the boy a stern look. "Me and Keith are both tired, but not to the point that we can't even stand straight. Neither of us are coughing, or sweating as much as you, and.."

He frowned, watching Lance's face fall. No, he'd not wanted it to sound like he and Keith were more capable. That wasn't what he meant at all. He didn't know how to make Lance understand. He wasn't sure if he had time to be gentle with his feelings, either.

"Just.. let me finish this, okay? It'll make me feel better." Shiro pleaded, waiting until Lance nodded before he resumed his search. 

He managed to convince Lance to take off the top most armour and shirt, making his search for infected injuries much easier. He should've done this the day they'd found Lance out cold on the ground. They'd never asked for any details on what hurt. 

Lance's joints, wrists and inner elbows, seemed to have a faint rash to them. Lance admitted they felt sore to the bone. Refusing to take off his pants, he simply explained the same was true for his knees and ankles. 

"Maybe it's.. some kinda flu?" Keith offered, wanting to help somehow. "He was sniffly a lot lately. Or maybe Strep.. I had it once, but it attacked the joints instead of the throat." Then again, out on alien planets, it could be something that had symptoms completely off the wall from what they knew.

Shiro gave a thoughtful hum, allowing Lance to change back into his grimy clothes. Lance grimaced as he did, disgusted with living in the same thing days on end with no laundry or showers in between. "None of us are doctors. All I know is I can't push him like I wish I could." 

Lance turned his head to regard Shiro, pulling on the breast plate with some difficulty. "We don't have a choice." His voice sounded off, fatigued and raspy. 

"You're right." Shiro affirmed, earning a surprised look from Lance. "That's why I'm going to carry you."

Lance's jaw dropped. "Wh-what? No!" He said with a defiant squeak. Shiro gave an irritated huff at Lance's stubborn defiance, making Lance flinch and deflate. After a moment, Lance looked away. Shiro didn't like the way the boy's face seemed to fall in disappointment. 

"Fine.." He murmured so quietly, the pair barely heard him. 

"Don't get too upset about this." Shiro requested, squatting down nearby. "It'll be easier on all of us if you just let us help without complaint. Come on. Piggy back ride."

Lance glared, obviously getting rather upset about the whole situation. But he relented, climbing onto Shiro's back.

The Black Paladin stood, shifting Lance up a little higher and adjusting his grip under his legs. Lance felt his face heat up in shame, embarrassment or maybe even just a flush from a returning fever. He hoped it was just shame. 

Keith led the way, letting Lance deal with his handicap in relative peace and out of view.

Now that he didn't have to walk, Lance was feeling the full force of his condition. His trek through the woods had distracted him from a lot of his symptoms. He did feel too warm, yet sometimes too cold despite the sweat pouring from his pores. He was breathing funny, a heavy feeling deep in his lungs making each breath feel wheezy. His joints and muscles really did hurt, but that could just be from fatigue, right? 

Minutes became an hour. Lance's head bounced against Shiro's shoulder, the former keeping his foggy gaze vaguely on the passing grey foliage that passed. His arm's grip around Shiro's neck was weakening. Despite not having to walk anymore, Lance was feeling more exhausted than ever. His vision continued to waver, erasing details and turning the world into a vague world of muted blurs.

Shiro felt him slipping, often slowing down to bounce Lance back up again. The armour got in the way of feeling the warming fever, but he could hear the Blue Paladin breath laboriously from within the helmet. 

His stomach clenched in fear and worry. Lance was not going to get better in an environment like this, even if they did find water and shelter. It was entirely possible that Lance had some kind of lung infection. It could be anything, and they had no means to properly heal him. If Hunk and Pidge could find any time to find them, now would be it.

He was afraid. Afraid for Lance's life. Yet the boy had kept insisting not to take him too seriously. No. Shiro had to take this seriously. He wouldn't let Lance's wounded pride get in the way anymore. He was going to force this kid to obey, no matter what.

If Lance's slumped form against his back was any indication, he had a feeling Lance would be a lot more amiable to his stern orders than he had been lately. 

"Shiro." Keith called after another hour of walking. Shiro stopped, catching his breath and looking ahead. Keith appeared to be outside a clearing, a dull light radiating from the parted trees. Shiro hunched over, readjusting Lance's position again, then stepped forward until he was closer to Keith.

"What is it?" He asked, already looking past the clearing and towards the horizon. Some distance away, he saw it; a Galra ship, large and foreboding, hovering in the sky. Down below, smaller ships seemed to be landing.

"Bad news.." Shiro rumbled, clutching Lance's legs tightly in fear. Flashes of hallways, of doctors and surgical tools, of arenas and blood and--

"Good news." Keith corrected beside him, stunning Shiro from his episode. He gave the younger man a confused look. "Excuse me?" He asked to clarify. Since when was a Galra fleet landing nearby a sign of good news?

"We sneak in. We grab a pod. We escape this damned place, and find a radio signal to hail the castle." Keith looked determined, staring intently out at the large purple ship.

"Dangerous." Shiro insisted, kneeling to give himself a rest. "We can't fight right now. Lance.."

He nodded his head to Keith to help him with Lance, who looked to have passed out at some point. They laid him down on his back, his chest rising and falling with wheezing breaths. 

"All the more reason we have to do something risky." Keith insisted as he looked down at his fallen comrade. "Besides.. he has a gun. Even like this, I have faith Lance could take out any sentry from a mile away."

Shiro swelled with some foreign emotion as he witnessed Keith's faith in Lance. The two were more trusting of one another than Shiro had ever assumed possible. 

He looked down at Lance once more. Keith was right. The risk was worth it. They would not make it another night without help. 

"Okay. Let's make a plan."

\- - -

Night was falling once more. It had taken a while for Lance to wake up, and they needed him conscious in order to execute their plan. Said plan had gotten the sick teen rather excited. After all, if this worked, they'd be well on their way to finding their friends (and a shower). Shiro was more excited for medical care, truth be told, but he let the boy delight in his ineffective fantasies. 

They snuck past large shipping crates. They hid in the gaps between each pile of them, as Lance used his rifle in the lead to peek around corners. He waved them out each time the coast was clear, and soon enough cover was no longer plausible. They'd reached the edge of the maze they'd traversed. Beyond it was a large expanse of cruisers and pods lined up by the hundreds. 

"Just what do they think they're doing here?" Keith murmured behind Lance, glaring at the marching sentries. "This planet is empty and useless. Unless it's actually got something we failed to see."

"Likely." Shiro murmured, "We didn't get very far, after all. We don't know how big this place is. However..." A suspicion rose in him. "Maybe they're looking for us. The same way Pidge sent us a message."

"I thought that was the lion bond.." Lance retorted weakly, worried for his friends out there in the void of space.

"Maybe.. It's just a theory. For all we know, they're here for something unrelated." Shiro whispered back, breathing in sharply as he prepared for the riskier part of their plan. While Lance seemed to be holding up after his well deserved nap, Shiro knew none of them were at full strength. Least of all Lance. Hunger and fatigue ate away their strength and senses. They had one shot at this.

"Lance, we're good to go. Can you keep up?" Shiro needed to ask in case they had to change the plan. Lance's energy and health was a see-saw of sustainability. 

"M'fine." He murmured back. "I just wanna get off this planet." And he'd push himself past his means if he had to.

"Then let's move."

\- - -

Where did it go wrong?

Lance struggled to see through the dizzy vertigo even as he lay hidden, sniping enemies as best he could. Keith and Shiro could be heard often, fighting and shouting to one another. Blasts and explosions rocked the base. He could see the pair now and then through the thick of it, and he picked off any sentry or Galra that tried to blind side his teammates. 

But waves of sickness, fatigue, and a horrible stomach cramp kept forcing Lance to stop, curling in on himself. He could barely remember what had set off a trap. Could not recall how the trio had split up. Could hardly remember what the original plan was exactly. 

His eyes squinted open, a fist at his mouth as he pushed past a wave of nausea. Galra had managed to block in Keith and Shiro, who now fought back to back. Lance cursed in his mind. They needed a pod to escape. How would they ever manage that now?

 _Think!_ He scolded himself, squeezing his eyes shut. He was furious with himself. He wished he was smarter. Wished he was stronger. Hell, he'd trade anything he had just to be healthy enough to be down there with them, at their side, like a real brother ought to be. 

He wanted to save them.

He looked up, and in a moment of visual clarity, he saw it; Some rigging that had come loose from stray lasers. Poised over the crowd. Risking it all, Lance stood tall from his hiding place, lifted his weapon, aimed carefully, then called out.

"Keith! Shiro! RUN"

He didn't wait to see their faces, and fired.

\- - - 

Keith was angry. 

Trying to hijack a pod ship had gone downhill. There'd been too many guards and sentries, and taking them down had gone from as quick and stealthy as possible, to frantic and vicious. They were three hungry, scared men trying to escape a barren planet, with an army in the way of freedom. 

Somehow, they lost Lance. Likely he'd run to find higher ground. Keith just hoped that was the case. He knew how up and down the lanky bastard's health was. It was scarily possible that he'd been taken down.

Eventually, he found himself surrounded, with Shiro at his back. Keith burned with protective turmoil. He'd give anything to keep Shiro from suffering at the hands of the Galra again. Imprisonment. Mind Control. Maybe even thrown into an arena for shits and giggles. No, he wanted to save his mentor, his brother, from being pushed down in the dirt again. A great man like him deserved better.

And then it happened. He heard Lance's voice for the first time in a while. He looked up, just in time to see Lance fire at...

Oh no.

Keith reacted fast, grabbing Shiro's arm and running with him into the waiting crowd of Galra. The Galra were partly ready to take them down, but then it happened; the scaffolding above them, the framework that kept this bunker upright, came crashing down. 

Dust, debris, metal. Something exploded behind him. Keith dove to avoid a destroyed pod that was flying over his head. He peeked behind him to see Lance through the thick of smoke and dust trying desperately to get free from some soldiers who'd caught him.

"That stupid idiot!" Keith cursed. Lance had made a diversion that put himself in danger. The guy was a magnet for trouble. Shiro hissed beside Keith, spotting the same thing.

"We have to save him." Shiro's voice wavered with worry. There were too many guards. Too many guns. 

"Well, not like we can run away." Keith bemoaned. They may as well put themselves in the same fire as Lance.

Keith and Shiro fought their way forwards, but ultimately it was all for not. A stun gun took down Shiro. A sudden hit to the back of the head made Keith get knocked out cold.

All three paladins had been taken down. A large general emerged from the entryway, followed by a small unit of high rank officials. 

"Well well well." He growled happily, large teeth gleaming in a grin. "Assigned to mine for ore on a practical dust-pan of a planet, and I am gifted with Paladins of Voltron within two days of arrival."

The paladins were cuffed, and dragged to the General's feet. He gave a deep, self satisfied chuckle.

"Must be my lucky day."

\- - -

On the bright side, they weren't dying on the 'dust-pan' planet.

Downside? They were prisoners, unarmed, and with an alarmingly Not-Okay Lance.

True, Lance's health had been a slight issue during their not-so great camping trip. However, that paled to his condition now. While Keith and Shiro had woken up since blacking out, enjoying the cramped space of their shared cell; Lance was still out cold, wheezing, and shivering. Shiro had stepped up and pulled the Blue Paladin into his arms to keep him warmer, but they both thought it odd he was cold to begin with. After all, the cell, while not really warm per say, was at least close to normal room temperature. 

"Did he get hurt out there? Hit his head?" Keith asked worriedly, since yelling at doors and punching walls would do little good in this situation. More like he did that already and it had earned him bruised knuckles and no means of attention or escape.

"Hit to the temple." Shiro answered in a hard tone. It was bad enough their friend had been feeling unwell already, with whatever minor injuries he'd been carrying with him since day one. They didn't need a head injury to top off this cake of a day. 

Sure enough, Keith could make out some slight bruising and a cut right on Lance's head. 

"What was he thinking back there?" Keith growled.

"Maybe he was looking to cause a distraction." Shiro murmured, "Or trying to bring down the whole building on the Galra."

"Us included?" Keith scoffed, although he suddenly rather liked that idea, even if it had gone south. Trust Lance to be dramatic about it.

"Give him a break. He was having a bad day." Shiro said this with a little more mirth than his earlier hard tone. As angry as he was about being captured, discussing Lance's battle strategy with a sprinkling of humour made it semi bearable. 

Keith settled for a bit, sitting in a corner and staring at the dark walls that surrounded them. The hum of the ship was soothing, despite their situation. For now, there was simply nothing any of them could do but wait.

"Don't suppose they'll feed us, will they?" Keith felt his stomach rumble, rubbing his hand over it with a heavy sigh. He had no idea how long he and Shiro had been knocked out. He doubted it would have been more than an hour. Speaking of..  
Keith lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his head where he'd been hit. It felt hot to the touch, with a large, hard bump. Maybe he ought to start worrying about concussions himself. As it stood, the bump hurt, but he felt no headache. 

"They get you too?" Shiro had noticed, narrowing his eyes at Keith with grave concern.

"Yeah. Just a bump on the head. Don't worry about it." He tried to be dismissive, but Shiro wasn't having it.

"No, I really think I will worry about it." Two head injuries to keep an eye on. Plus whatever flu or infection Lance was battling. Shiro just prayed he could keep his own agitated mind calm enough to keep things together in the meantime. He recalled the dread in his gut when he'd first been captured. Watching Matt and Sam get dragged away...

He sucked in a breath, keeping his eyes focused on Lance. He needed to stay grounded and present. He couldn't let himself slip. Not here. He made himself a promise; hold out until everyone is safe.

The door suddenly made a grinding noise, opening to allow the Galra General to enter, flagged by four very large soldiers. 

Shiro held Lance tighter, cradling his head against his chest plate. Keith stood up hurrying to put himself between Shiro and this General. 

"So! Paladins. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company? While some of the Empire may have allied themselves with you, I must admit I am not so easily swayed."

Keith narrowed his eyes. True, a lot of Galra had defected and started their own campaigns. This General could easily be part of one of them. "Who do you work for?" Keith snarled, wishing he had his blade on him.

"Sendak." He replied coldly, "While I'd love to become a Warlord myself, I'd prefer if the Galra maintained the Empire the way it is supposed to be. Sendak shares that vision, so I follow him."

The General looked them over, smirking at the way Shiro was trying to protect Lance. Keith kept quiet for now. This General seemed to like the sound of his own voice. It was working in their favour.

"I am surprised though.. I had heard through the grape vine that the Druids had taken care of Voltron."

Keith's brows rose. Were the Galra and Druids in league with one another? On the side of the warlords, or the Empire under Lotor's command? The answer to that could cause a great upset. 

"They obviously failed." Huffed the General, seeming quite comfy standing there as he gabbed so casually. It was no wonder the idiot was shoved off to a dusty planet to mine for worthless ores. Maybe there was a good chance the three of them could escape. Still, while they knew Pidge and Hunk were working out their own dimensional kerfuffle, they still didn't know the fate of Allura and Coran. Had they been...

"No matter. I'll succeed where the druids did not."

Keith braced himself. It would be like shooting fish in a small pond. Himself and the others didn't have their weapons. Yet the Galra didn't charge up their guns. Keith was ready to count himself lucky that they weren't smart enough to shoot them on the spot. 

"I'll send you all to Sendak. I'm sure he'd love to use you all as an example to teach the Empire a lesson in loyalty."


	4. I Watch On as my King Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of whump and angst and torture in this one. And an F bomb! Enter with caution~!

"Remember when saving the Universe was just 'Kill Zarkon'?" Lance bemoaned with a raspy voice, his head on Shiro's lap as he gazed at the ceiling with blurry vision. Shiro grimaced with sympathy, idly petting back Lance's hair. 

"Yes. I remember." He answered despite the rhetoric nature of Lance's query. To be fair, Shiro's memory mostly ended at Zarkon's supposed defeat, although he'd gained some foggy outlines of memories since 'waking up'. They mostly took the form of nightmares outlined in an anxious frame of purple. Said nightmares were prickling at the edges of his inner strength the longer they spent in captivity. 

"We can make this work." Keith insisted, pacing vigorously around their enclosure. "I can break out. Find a console. I know these ships like the back of my hand thanks to the Blade's. I can get a message out to the Castle, or the Rebels. Someone is looking for us."

"It might be best to do that soon." Shiro murmured in a hush, hearing heavy footfalls heading towards them. "There's no telling how long we'll last when we arrive at Sendak's headquarters."

The door opened, and along with his personal guard, in came the nameless general. He grinned with such glee, that the boys felt a great shudder of dread overtake their plans.

"Good news, gentlemen. Sendak has ordered you all executed at once."

This was not good news. At all. Keith felt his heart seize first in fear, then in anger. No, this would not stand. He'd die with his boots on, if he were to die at all. Not standing politely in a jail cell with a gun pointed at his head. He clenched his fists, ready to strike bare handed if need be.

"But I am a merciful man." The General continued, lilting his voice as if giving a performance, "I won't kill you right yet. Yes, Sendak did request your heads sent to him, but you know.. things get lost in the mail all the time. So a small delay in your deaths seems feasible."

What was he getting at? 

"You see, boys? I have a team of scientists trying to perfect some of the experiments the druids had conducted. Many of their strange magical rituals had been beneficial. Replicating those effects with medicine would be quite beneficial. And wouldn't you know it? We're all out of test subjects!"

"No.." Keith murmured through gritted teeth, his jaw locked tightly in anger. 

"Don't worry! You won't suffer very long." He grinned as more guards poured into the room, making escape very difficult. "After all, Sendak is waiting patiently for your corpses."

Keith was a fighter. He always had been. The only way out was for one of them to do something drastic, risky and stupid. Keith decided it would be him.

The guards came forward to take them away, and Keith fought back. He ducked down, sweeping his leg behind the legs of some sentries, knocking them down. Live guards moved to shoot him, but he threw one of the sentries in the flightpath of bullets and lasers, and took up a gun for himself. Immediately, the General ordered Shiro and Lance to be used as hostages and human shields. Keith, though it pained him to do so, fled without looking back.

They would be okay, he told himself. He needed to get to a communication hub. He needed to send a distress signal to the Blades. They could help. Once he did that, he'd find Shiro and Lance, and try as much as he could to get them into hiding. 

Having left behind his apprehension, as well as his close friends, Keith went into work mode; there was no room for worry or fret. He had to do this. As much as it must seem like cowardice to leave his friends behind, they were soldiers too. They all knew what was at risk. It was simply easier for one to run, as opposed to all. And with Lance being a bit of a liability, the choice was that much more evident. Lance would have Shiro. Shiro would keep him safe and healthy. 

Maybe..

Experimentations... Those two had already been on the business end of mad scientists and druid magic. 

Keith cursed to himself as he fled into the ventilation system. He shed his armour in a hiding spot, just in case the Galra could use it to track him. With only his flight suit on his back, and stolen weapon in hand, he started manually mapping out the vents. 

Keith was fiercely protective; more than willing to put himself in harm's way to keep his loved ones, or the universe, safe. To run from those he wanted kept safe, to leave them behind for the slim chance he'd save them all? It went against everything he stood for. _Why did I run?_ He thought savagely as he crawled through vents and spied on working Galra, eavesdropping on any valuable conversation he could. _No, this isn't running. It's fighting.._  
He'd been desperate, he surmised. He was still horribly hungry, his stomach painfully shrinking within him. Dehydrated and also losing his senses with three or four days of malnutrition working against him. 

He decided to give himself some small leniencies for now. After all, if he could get the Blades or Rebels to know and understand Voltron's plight, the more likely they would come out of this alive and in one piece.

 _Oh God_ , let them all escape in one piece.

\- - -

Krolia, after having been removed from her post at a crumbling facility in which she had been relatively left in charge, was now travelling with Kolivan to a space where Voltron had last been seen. Rumours had spread that the great Hope of the Universe had been taken out by druids. Anomalies had also been reported since then; visions of a Green and Yellow Paladin attempting contact with Rebel bases, but flickering and vanishing within seconds. Then there was the radio silence on part of the Galran Emperor. One whom had been allied with Voltron, suddenly having zero thoughts on the disappearance of the Princess Allura and her Paladins?

Fishy, at best.

As Kolivan drifted deeper through space, his dock suddenly lit up with an incoming message; from a far off Galran battleship. He turned to Krolia, who gave a stiff nod, and took his place in front of the console. 

She accepted the message.

The screen lit up with an image of Keith, looking dishevelled and impatient. When he saw Krolia, it was evident he was about to end the transmission almost immediately, were it not for Kolivan stepping into view just then. 

"Keith! Where are you?" Kolivan asked in a grunt. The small human looked relieved to see him, and not some stranger. 

"Kolivan. The paladins are alive. Myself, Shiro and Lance are being held captive by some Galran General I've never seen. Pidge and Hunk are being catapulted across space due to some malfunction from druid magic. I have no idea what happened to the castle, Allura or Coran. We need immediate extraction."

Keith was speaking rapidly, afraid he would run out of time. Kolivan didn't dare interrupt him, watching how Keith kept frantically looking over his shoulder. "The General contacted Sendak, who ordered our execution. The General plans to experiment on us first. I got away, but Shiro and Lance are in trouble. I'm going back to try and help them, but we can't do this on our own. I'm sending you the coordinates I found on the ship. Hurry."

The transmission cut out, and the room was left with a held breath too painful to contain.

Krolia broke the silence with a huff, moving aside as she quickly tapped in the information downloaded from Keith's transmission. "I've never seen that Blade before. Who is he?" She asked, feeling as though there was something oddly familiar about the young human boy.

"That's Keith. He was a former paladin, and one of our newer Blades." Kolivan replied stiffly. He startled when Krolia seemed to flinch at the boy's name, but she continued working all the same.

"From Earth?" She asked nonchalantly, business as usual.

"Yes.." He replied with narrowed eyes.

She simply nodded, and continued to work. "There. We're on a direct course to their location. I'll try and contact other blades to keep an eye out for the other two paladins. What of the Castle and its Princess?"

Kolivan glared at the floor. "Put an encrypted message out to the Blade Network, and any nearby rebel bases. Ask them to look into it."

Kolivan left the room, and Krolia stared out into the vast abyss of space. In that human boy, she saw a man from her past. A man she'd nearly given up all her life's work just to be with.

\- - -

Hunk gasped, ripping off his helmet and flopping down onto the soft ground of a fertile and grassy planet. "Finally!" He croaked, dumping the yellow helmet onto the plush ground. "A planet that isn't exploding, on fire, or covered in mutant scorpions!" He was exhausted and out of breath, wiping sweat from his brow and breathing in the fresh air.

Pidge was more subtle with her relief, though she too chucked her helmet on the ground with much relish. She squatted down next to Hunk, breathing out an exhausted sigh. "Don't relax too long, Hunk. We need to hack into this bug in our armour; fast."

Hunk groaned, flopping onto his back as he stared up at a blue sky that twinkled with unseen life. It was almost like looking at the sun reflecting on the water. Maybe the atmosphere was made of liquid? If only they could study it further. Noting this desire, he placed one of the many beacons he'd created into the soft earth, turning it on without even needing to look at it.   
The pair had been mapping out their jumps with these beacons ever since their 15th jump. It had been fortunate they'd found a junkyard on one of their adventures, gathering as much as they could before finding themselves launched into a dark abyss.

"I'm worried about them.." He murmured to Pidge, who was not resting at all. She feverishly tapped away at her arm bracer, occasionally inputting further information into a scrappy laptop she'd created from said junkyard. 

Hunk continued, "Especially Lance.. did you see him in that connection you made the other day? He looked _pale_."

"That's impossible, Hunk. It was probably the glow from the bioluminescent plants. I'm sure they're all just tired.." Of course Pidge was worried too. However, just like with her brother and father, she forced herself to focus on the saving part first, and the 'worst case scenarios in her head' part, second.

Hunk grunted in doubt, finally sitting up and pulling up his own bracer. "I miss them." He moped, his brown eyes wet with worry and loss. He tapped miserably on his keypad, looking over data from their last jump to look for commonalities, variables, and other things that might lead to a breakthrough in stopping the jumps. Or, better yet, controlling them.

"Pidge?" He murmured, lowering his arm, "Ever thought of.. oh I don't know.. connecting to the druid magic like you did with the Olkarion trees?"

Pidge was about to tell him that was stupid. Olkari technology was a whole other thing; Magic + Plants/Metal = Living Tech. But was it?

Druid magic merging with Altean tech? Maybe it wasn't so different after all.

"Connect..." Pidge murmured, slowly grasping her arm bracer in hand. "Maybe I could... Hey, Hunk? Hold onto me. I don't want to lose you if this works."

\- - -

He'd done it. He'd made contact with Kolivan. A great relief washed over Keith, allowing him to relax for a moment or so as he once again hid within the ventilation system. Running a hand through his dirty hair, he allowed his mind to become blank for the first time in ages. It wasn't much of a break, but it was doing wonders for his mental health.

Once his breathing was steady, and his heart calm, he focused his mind back on the mission.

It was time to rescue Shiro and Lance. He needed them all together, and hopefully Kolivan would find them all within the day. Keith crawled through vents, looking over the map he'd made using the data he grabbed out of that console earlier. Prison cells were...

He found himself nearby where he'd been held with the others. Looking out through the vents, he found the coast was clear. Keith slid out of the ceiling and made his way down the long, dark corridors. All the cells seemed empty. _Damn_ , he thought. It was likely Lance and Shiro had been moved. 

His footsteps, bare and dirty, made much noise as he hurried through the halls and back up into the vents. He decided he might need to put his armour back on, at this point. He'd gotten his message out. All there was to do was find his team, and then survive.

Once donned in his armour, Keith looked over the map schematics for some sort of lab, or at least a place where he might find his and the other's bayards. 

\- - -

Lance found himself longing for simpler times. He focused on them as hard as he could, pushing past the pain and the dysphoria of whatever drug they'd just needled into his veins. As sweat beaded from every pore, as a fuzzy weightlessness dizzied his equilibrium, as breath came by harder and thinner. He longed for the magic he felt when he'd first touched Blue's barrier; a psychic, almost heavenly connection that made him feel bigger than he'd ever truly been. Like he was meant for something. Like he was needed. The simple heartache of being far from home, but knowing his place in the universe was now bigger than himself. Of days when squabbling with Keith, trying to earn a place as his equal, would be the hardest part of his day.

He squeezed those memories and sensations like a lifeline even as his throat bled raw from screams he could not contain. His lungs, weak and infected, throbbed inside his too tight chest. 

_Why?_

He couldn't imagine why. To be like these Galra, who look upon another life with such malice or indifference. To change them and mutate them into something else. To put pain upon them, and then simply stand by and watch?

_Why?!_

His breaths came rapid and sharp, stabbing into him in painful pricks and slices. Whatever they had used on him was going to kill him, or do damage so lasting, he'd never recover. Never be the same. Whatever default Lance that existed was never going to be attainable. He'd been chewed up, spat out, stepped on, stained and sullied. His heels dug into the scalding table he was strapped to, the pain so violent it burned him alive. Tears felt so raw upon his cheeks he was sure there couldn't possibly be skin left to burn.

_Why..._

Visions lined in purple assaulted him from behind closed eyelids. The face of Haggar, ugly and wicked, cackling as she threw him into a well. His lungs closed up with only the memory of it, drowning on nothing as his mind fought invisible waves. Phantoms tugged on his leg, dragging him under the depths. Voices of the technicians called out over his screams; 

_give us back the queen. give us back the queen._

He felt them stab into his arms, more liquid fire that shot through his nervous system to attack his brain. The pain was nothing any human could understand or bear. The emotional pain and physical pain became one. They were constant. They were merciless. 

_...Why would they do this to me?_

\- - -

Keith's schematics read of a life sign in a room blocked by a thick metal door. No means of looking within it were apparent. It could be anyone in there, but the vents simply did not venture far enough to sneak through like he'd prefer. No matter. He had the stolen gun, and he was a fair match against one lone Galra. Besides.. it might be Lance or Shiro. Though, if it was? It meant they'd been separated, and that made this rescue a lot harder.

Keith used his knowledge gained from his time with the Blades to hack the door open from a small hidden console in the wall. The giant door slid up into the wall, revealing a pitch black room, lit only by the weak dim glow of the purple hued hallway.

In the centre of the room sat Shiro. 

Keith let out a breath, rushing to kneel before him. "Shiro." He whispered in great relief, touching his friend's shoulders. "Shiro?"

No answer. Keith leaned down to look into Shiro's eyes. He saw nothing within the dark depths. A grave emptiness stared back. The man's face was still and waxy, mouth slack in defeat. _What did they do?_ Keith thought as his relief was shattered. He looked around him for torture equipment or anything to hint at Shiro's state. But only darkness surrounded him. Had he been taken here recently? Or had he been left here since being separated from Lance? Keith had left the group over an hour ago. No one could possibly break Shiro in so little time.

No one...

"What happened?" Keith pleaded, holding Shiro's face with his gloved hands, peering desperately into those unseeing eyes for some spark. Some life. "Shiro?"

Nothing. Shiro breathed. Technically, he lived. But nothing of the man he knew and loved was home. Everything that used to look warm and familiar was now a mask of uncanny likeness that was almost Shiro, but just not there. Keith felt his heart shatter. A great lump too painful to swallow sat thick in his throat. He felt his eyes water and his resolve waver.

"Please... Shiro, _please say something._ "

Silence.

This wasn't just an episode, or any sort of attack he'd seen in this man before. This was an unfathomable defeat of spirit. It wasn't something Keith was prepared to deal with. He hadn't the strength of heart or will right now. All he wanted in this moment was to curl up and wish, wish, wish with all his heart for some miracle to make this all better.

Childish. Naive. He knew this. He knew. But all the rugged life experiences meant nothing in the face of this great loss. Shiro was not responding. Shiro was as good as gone.

Keith felt a sob rip free from his throat, painful and wretched. He gripped at Shiro's face, pressing his own forehead close to his. Tears fell, and he could only despair with both grief and anger. Shiro had saved so many lives. Shiro had saved _him_. But there had been no one to save Shiro.

Terrible cries fell from him that he'd not experienced since his father died. Letting out every painful emotion he'd tried so hard to lock away ever since that day. He let all of it out in that empty, dark room.

"Shiro.." He sobbed miserably, pulling away and stroking his jawbone with his thumb. "I'm gunna find you again. I'll bring you back. As long as it takes.." He sniffed, rubbing his sodden face against his own padded shoulder. Pulling Shiro up, wedging himself under the man's shoulder, he tried to nudge his friend into standing. Shiro was dead weight, slipping off his shoulder and nearly hitting the floor.

"Come on.." Keith growled, teeth grit in desperation. "We gotta go, Shiro. We have to find Lance.. _Help_ is coming.." His voice cracked, finding that despite his strength, it just wasn't enough to drag Shiro along with him. 

" _Please!_ " 

A clang of a door somewhere down the hall suddenly broke the atmosphere. Keith held his breath, gripping Shiro's arms as footsteps echoed up the hallway. The voices of Galran soldiers grew louder, and judging by what he heard, they knew Keith was in here. Keith laid low, letting Shiro slump to the floor again. With his gun at the ready, he waited.

The first Galra visible that walked over the threshold, Keith fired. 

Chaos reigned, as bullets and lasers burned walls and armour. Something sharp stabbed Keith in the neck. He ignored it, shooting the last soldier and turning back to Shiro. There was not much he could do but drag the man with him. It would be slow, and risky. But the other option was leaving him here.

No. Never that.

Keith dragged Shiro up by his armpits and walked backwards, stepping over bodies and down the hall. His head felt messed up and unfocused. His blood was boiling. As sweat poured over his skin, he remembered the sharp pain from the fight. _Shit,_ he thought to himself. He grabbed at his neck, and sure enough, a tiny dart had been shot at him. He pulled it out, looking at the small offensive thing. He had half a mind to chuck it, but if he'd been poisoned, it might be good to know with what exactly; Just in case he could find a cure.

With great effort, he continued to drag Shiro as far as he could, suffering muscle spasms and a burning sensation under his skin. After ten minutes, he ducked behind an alcove to rest, leaning his head back as he panted with exertion. His head tilted to the side, and he caught his reflection in the shining surface of a glass partition;

His eyes.. the whites were yellowing. His teeth seemed sharper. Sweat had dampened his hair to a point he almost looked sickly. Whatever was in that dart, it was irritating his Galran genes. Wincing, he turned away from the reflection of a monster. It made him feel gross. Alien. Even after working with the Blades of Marmora all this time, being considered one of them.. he just felt wrong. Off. A harsh reminder that he was never truly human. He'd never really belonged anywhere, and this was why. This was..

Keith growled and punched himself in the face, snapping his attention back to the matter at hand. He'd be fine. He was fine with who he was, and there were so many other things to worry about right now.

Like Shiro.. and Lance. He was still missing. 

His gut twisted as he hauled Shiro up again. The drug was hindering more than helping, as his strength seemed to increase, but his breathing overcompensated, leaving him feeling rushed and breathless. Still, he pulled and tugged at his brother, finding another computer room to try and hack. How he'd managed not to attract more Galra soldiers to him after blatantly killing three and stealing Shiro back, he wasn't sure. 

He feverishly typed at the computer, his fingers slick with the sweat from his palms. It was getting hard to focus. His mind wanted to keep track of too much at once, and his eyesight kept switching from Galran to Human. It made his vision wobble and waver. Alarms blared in his ears, though that could have been actual alarms. For good measure, he found access to the doors of the room, and locked them shut from where he stood. After some simple lock out algorithms to give him more time, he got back to work trying to locate Lance in the system.

"Come on. Come on.." He murmured to himself, fighting the tremor of his over stimulated muscles. Maybe that drug had been a type of steroid. With any luck, it would simply go away as it worked through his system. If he could avoid any permanent side effects it would make this whole endeavour a lot easier to bear. 

Finally, Keith spotted Lance's figure in some security footage. He was surrounded by scientists of some sort, and he could barely make out the young man's blue and white armour within the crowd. It looked like a medical lab, with Lance on a large table, and equipment lining the outer edges of the room.

"Shit." Keith murmured in great fear. His heart rate skyrocketed to a point too painful to endure. He clenched a hand over his chest plate, hissing in a sharp breath. Lance was in deep trouble, and Keith barely stood a chance of getting to him without breaking down. He downloaded the location onto his bracer, watching as the scientists looked around in alarm as that room began to flicker with red flashing lights. Keith watched, hopeful they'd leave Lance there so he could save him. 

They didn't. A technician unstrapped the now obviously unconscious Cuban, and they dragged him away.

"SHIT!" Keith slammed his hands down onto the console, breaking the framework and sending sparks into the air. He did it again. And again. He destroyed the console with his fists, his legs, his gun. He levelled it until nothing remained.

Nothing was going right. Everything was going wrong. He couldn't save Shiro. He'd never save Lance.

Keith fell to the floor, the unforgiving pain of despair swelling inside his chest and throat. Blood, red and violent, bubbled up from fresh cuts and lacerations now littering his hands from beneath torn gloves.

"Lance.." Keith cried, breathing in sharply. "I'm sorry.."

\- - -

"Sir?"

Krolia's voice echoed from the communication dock on the other side of the flight bay. Kolivan turned towards it with alarm, quickly making his way to the station. If there was news of Keith's situation already... "Yes, what is it?"

Krolia's picture popped up from the console, her stern features quirked in an odd sort of confusion. "I believe I have found the Yellow and Green Paladins."

Kolivan managed to feel a small semblance of relief settle in his chest. "Good work. Where are they?" 

"Here."

That internal smile wavered. His brow lowered even further. "...come again?"

"Here, sir. They've appeared on the bridge. Out of nowhere, I might add."

\- - - 

One after another, Keith heard the explosions outside his door. The lock he'd put on it had worked wonders, and it seemed the Galra were trying more brutish methods to get at him and Shiro. But at this point? It would only delay what was inevitable. They would capture them. Kill them. Keith had nothing left to give the universe. The drug kept pumping him with adrenaline, but it clashed so viciously with the side effect of being unable to make decisions. He was left with an anxious terror in his brain, ripping his foundation to shreds. 

His head tilted, looking down at the doll-like still form of Shiro, laying there with half lidded eyes. He reached out, grasping Shiro's hand with his own. The noise outside got louder and louder, pounding thickly in his ears. He wasn't sure if Shiro could hear anything, if any piece of him had survived his ordeal. But if he was there.. He needed him to know. Shiro had to know how much Keith valued their relationship. How much it meant to him that Shiro always believed in Keith, always supported him. He was a friend to Keith when no one would even look at him with a small semblance of kindness or hope.

"Shiro.. I.."

_BOOM_

The ship rocked horribly to the side, startling Keith from his knelt position. He fell over himself, head over heels, before landing with a grunt. He looked up from where he now lay on his stomach as the crowd outside his door made noise. No one tried to get in anymore. No.. they seemed to be rushing out. Something about an attack...

Attack...

The Blades!

Keith switched gears, every fibre of his drugged nerves focusing with laser precision on his goal; Take Shiro, Find Lance.

Keith grunted and hauled as much of Shiro as he could up behind him, dragging his arms over his shoulders. He'd wear the bulky, comatose man like a damned cape if he had to. With the map of the ship floating over his bracer, Keith ran and staggered from the now unlocked space, and into the flashing hallways. The ship lurched and shuddered. Soldiers and sentries could be heard from behind locked doors, doing their part to defend the ship. 

Keith kept going. 

He ducked down deserted hallways, even going the long way to avoid combat stations. No sense in getting caught now; they'd only become hostages. He wanted to make this rescue as mess-free as possible.

Keith finally found the lab where Lance had once been. He looked feverishly around at the table for clues. There were spots of blood, but not much. Maybe they'd irritated a wound, or caused one with the restraints. There were bottles, needles and other odds and ends, but he wasn't sure if they were used or not. Golden liquid stained the bottom of a near empty beaker nearby.

Giving up on this area, he fled through the back way, peeking into doors and halls for any sign of Lance or the technicians. He was getting tired. The drug was wearing off, and now he felt a new and undesired consequence. His muscles were becoming stiff. It was hard to walk as is, with Shiro on his back. With these weakened, non-fluid limbs now petrifying, he was a dead man by sunset. 

Keith struggled, panting in and out as he checked one last sealed door. He dropped Shiro, wincing at the thud that came from him as the bigger man hit the floor. Weakly, Keith input the hack to get into the room. The door opened, Keith stepped in. Lights came on.. 

And there he was. 

There was Lance.

 _Oh no._ Keith thought..

Lance was crying, but Keith couldn't hear any sound from him. He was covering his eyes with his hands, which were bloodied from the wrists; likely where he'd fought against restraints. Tears pooled down, dirty and tainted from a face that had not been washed since any of them had been on the old Castle Ship. He was curled up on himself, sitting in a corner of the room, afraid and small. 

"Just what the fuck did these Galra bastards do to you two.." Keith growled, even as the dead weight of his limbs kept him from any grand action. 

Keith struggled, dragging one leg then the other, as he tried to reach Lance. He was angry for him. He wanted to take down this whole damn ship for him. But he knew this was it. He had nothing left to give. With any luck, The Blades or Rebels would win this fight, and take the ship over. Keith had one job; Get to Lance. Make Lance know he was safe. Make everything okay again.

Keith fell, a few feet away from Lance's curled form, still silently sobbing. Maybe the guy's throat had been rubbed raw from pain. Maybe they took his voice altogether...

 _Oh God_ he thought, worrying about the blood spatter he'd seen back there. If there was one thing Lance was not allowed to lose, it was his voice. 

Keith army crawled closer, pushing himself up enough to lean on the wall next to Lance. He fell into his side, managed to wrap his arms around his shuddering friend. Lance didn't seem to feel him yet, but it didn't matter. He would.. he would.. he had to...

"It's okay, Lance.." Keith murmured, feeling the last of his strength leave him as all his muscles seized up from stiffness. More explosions rocked the ship. Yelling from angry soldiers permeated through the thick walls. Alarms blared. Their fate had never been more uncertain.

"It's gunna be fine.."


	5. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rescue comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very short chapter to tide you over. Anyone still reading, thank you for being so patient with me thus far. I bit off WAY more than I can chew with this series, and I'm having trouble tying up all the loose ends I created.

Wasteland - Chapter 5

Lance awoke to the smell of fire. Of the weight of another leaning into his side. The last thing he'd remembered was feeling hysterical after being shoved into an empty room after hours of torture. His nerves felt frayed. His lungs were weak. His sinuses sore, his skin dirty and cracked. He breathed in a raspy, wheezing breath, and looked down at the weight on his shoulder. It was Keith. He looked pale and sweating, exhausted. Ruined. Though he seemed asleep, it was terribly apparent something had just happened that had broken him somehow. 

_Where's Shiro?_ Lance thought, scanning the room while blinking heavily. Jeez, even his eyelids felt raw and burned. By the open doorway, he saw the slumped form of his brave leader. 

Lance was afraid. Why was Shiro out cold in the hallway? Lance's throat hurt so badly, he couldn't bear to speak. He shook the raven haired teen awake instead. Keith grunted, flinching as another explosion rocked the ship. He looked up at Lance, eyes widening. "Lance.. you ok?"

Well, truth be told Lance was far from okay. Physically, mentally. None of him was okay. He ignored Keith's query, too tired and hurt to bother with banter. He tried speaking, but his voice was so raspy and off, he pointed towards Shiro instead.

Keith gasped and looked across the room. But he didn't move. His shoulders sank again. "He's..." 

"There's Shiro!"

Lance and Keith both flinched with a gasp. That voice. That voice was..

Pidge skidded into view, lifting Shiro's head as she looked him over. "He's breathing. Lance and Keith should be nearby."

Lance and Keith stared in awe as she looked their way, a look of shock, then horror, but ultimately surprised relief to see the pair alive. Hunk stumbled into view next, looking down at Shiro, then up into the room at Keith and Lance.

"Guys!" Hunk said with a bright and stressed out smile. "Lance!"

Lance.. Lance's face was aglow. Life restored under a package of dirt, grime and injury. His heart was suddenly pounding within his chest. Every cell in his body rebelled as he shakily got to his feet, his blue eyes never wavering from their target. "Hunk.." He croaked out, his once missing smile breaking through the cracks of his predicament. 

Hunk was running into the room towards him, barely allowing Lance to take what few steps the injured teen could manage. He scooped Lance up into his arms, squeezing his best friend as close and snug as he could. 

"Oh my God, dude. I was SO worried about you!"

Lance sniffed, fighting tears as he hugged his friend, wishing the hard and unfriendly armour that stood between him and Hunk would go away. Hunk was holding most of his weight, as Lance seemed to lose the strength in his knees to stand. "I missed you too.." He murmured in a harsh whisper, feeling happy. So happy. A simple warmth that just about made up for everything else life had thrown at him.

Keith felt his own heart twist in bittersweetness. He was happy for them. But...

He turned to Shiro, who was being lifted up by a Galra woman, the one he'd seen in the message, as if he barely weighed anything. 

Kolivan soon came in, helping Keith get to his feet. "The ship has been compromised. Let's get you all out of here. We can ask questions and discuss details later."

\- - -

All three were treated for injury, illness and poison. Shiro was still shell shocked, unable to escape his own mind. Lance was out cold, resting his body after fighting a lung infection, multiple bruised organs, his throat torn raw from screaming, and an aggressive poison that had been injected in his bloodstream. Had it been allowed to circulate longer than it had, the effects would have been fatal, according to a Galran doctor. As it stood, without the Castle of Lions and its Pods, Lance and the others would have to recover the old fashioned way, given their less than Galran origins. 

Keith had been correct in assuming he'd been hit with a strange steroid, and indeed it managed to work itself safely out of his system. The only after effects he seemed to suffer from were slightly pointer teeth, and a small increase in his temper. The latter of which he tried hard to keep in check. He joined Hunk and Pidge for a meal, joined by Kolivan and the woman he'd brought with them on the rescue. She kept staring at Keith, making him feel scrutinized and judged. He ignored it, stuffing his face with the meal he'd been provided. It was once again some version of food goo. He gave the others at the table a seething look. Even on an empty stomach, he could barely tolerate the bland concoction. He'd almost rather go hungy. However, Hunk vowed to get them all proper meals the next time he had available resources.

The castle was still missing, along with Allura and Coran. 

"I was thinking," Pidge began, having eaten her fill of goo, "Maybe we ought to go back to that Clone Facility. We might find clues to where the castle is."

"It might be unsafe, but we're willing to help." Kolivan offered in his usual serious tone. The woman with him gave a small nod.

"As Kolivan said, the area is under the Empire's control. We're both hesitant to contact the Empire directly, and we haven't received much word from our hidden agents among their ranks."

Kolivan looked to Keith, noticing the boy was giving the woman an odd look. "This is Krolia. She's an agent I recently extracted from a base under fire while the Empire is at war with itself."

Keith and Krolia both stood, extending their hands to give a brief greeting. "Pleasure." Keith responded stiffly. Krolia fixed him with a hard look, one that made Keith feel like she had more to say. In the end, they both sat down without saying more.

"So.. Lotor went radio silent?" Keith asked, leaning back in his seat.

"Yes, mostly. As far as we can tell, he and his empire are focusing on dealing with clashes with warlords on a case by case basis. His whereabouts tend to be off schedule." Krolia answered, looking off of a tablet. "There are large expanses of time that he seems to spend communicating with an unknown base. We're looking into it, but it may be related to a large source of refined Quintessence I'd been researching."

Hunk seemed nervous and anxious, and with a hesitant raise of his hand, interrupted the string of conversation. "Soo going back a bit. Is that a solid Ten-Four on going back to the clone base? Cause we really need Allura, Coran and the castle back. I've got a fever drunk friend a few doors down who won't sit still long enough to nap without drugs."

He was of course referring to Lance, who could do with a dip in the pods. 

"And Shiro.." Keith murmured, his downcast eyes glazed over with grief. "What can we do to help him? Nothing I say gets through. He's completely shut down, and I don't know what the Galra did to make him like that."

Pidge gave a grimace, staring intently at her data pad. "We'll definitely need to check out that base. There's been no sightings or rumours of them at all in any Galran or Rebel databases since that day. It's the only place we have to go off of."

\- - -

A plan was set in place to investigate the clone facility. However, it was decided to allow a recovery period for the lost paladins. All of them were fatigued, injured or in some cases down for the count. The Blades and Pidge kept their focus on Galran activity, which without Voltron active, was apocalyptic. Frustrating as it was to sit back and watch, Pidge remained patient. Rebels and Blades were doing their best to keep peace and send aid where it was needed. Voltron's fractured team needed to heal before it could save anyone.

\- - -

Lance's nightmares made healing difficult. He woke up often, haunted by the faces of druids and witches clawing at his skin, demanding his submission to their cause. Sometimes he'd be thrown into a volcano as a sacrifice to bring Haggar back from the dead. 

And then there was the memory of torture. Of fire in his veins, and of merciless faces watching him for hours as his mind and body were pulled thin. Whatever illness he'd had on that horrible planet had been aggravated by the stress his body had undergone during his incarceration. 

Enough, Lance thought as he threw off his heavy blanket. He pulled on some warmer clothes and dragged his weakened body out of the infirmary. After a few minutes of prowling the halls, he found the room Hunk was hanging around in. Upon seeing Lance's thin form skulking through the doorway, Hunk yelped in surprise and scuttled his way to his friend.

"Lance! Jeez Louise, get back to bed!" He worried over Lance as he held his shoulders, looking fretfully into his horrifically haunted eyes. 

Lance huffed, feebly slapping his hands away and making noises of offence. "Bup-bup-bup-bup! Lemme alone, man!" Lance croaked, moving around Hunk's large form and scoping out the large kitchen for snacks. "I'm lonely in that awful room! It's all medical stuff and sterile smells and blech!"

Lance sniffed, feeling lightheaded as he reached for a shelf containing a long line of metal jars, all looking the same. "How do you tell what's what in space? Galrans and Alteans, dude. Everything is packaged the damn same. Like geez, learn some variety! Have they no culture? What I wouldn't give for some Earth aesthetics, yanno? Glass jars of different sizes, different colours. Spices and herbs hanging from window sills with the sunlight streaming in? Alien life is way more placid and boring than I could've imagined."

"Lance.." Hunk murmured, watching the lanky teen sway on his feet as he squinted at a label he obviously could not read. "I know you wanna get better fast for our sakes... but you need to rest."

"No, Hunk!" Lance set down the jar a little more roughly than he meant to. "I don't.. ugh.." Lance held the edge of the counter with shaking, sweaty hands, feeling all his strength come to an end. Hunk rushed to held keep him steady. "I don't wanna go back to that room. I can't sleep. I can't get comfortable. I just..."

Without wanting to show weakness, without wanting to give in to the comfort he sorely wanted, Lance gave up and sank into Hunk's chest, letting his big friend hold his weight. Hunk breathed a sigh of relief, bring his warm arms around Lance's thinner frame. "I know, man. It sucks."

"Wow. So descriptive. You a poet now, man?" Lance scorned huffily from within the hug. 

"Shut up." Hunk murmured with a small smirk, rubbing Lance's back and petting his hair. "C'mon. Hang out in my room. Well, I say my room? But really it's a barrack meant for guests. Me and Keith sleep there. Pidge sleeps on tables mostly."

"Of course she does." Lance murmured, his eyes closing. He felt warm and cozy wrapped in the body heat of someone he loved and trusted. The tremor of his bones ebbed slightly. A sense of warmth, of cozy care, and of safety seemed to bring down his anxieties. He knew he couldn't be by himself anymore. Another day or night spent without human touch would kill him.

He was home here in Hunk's embrace. He smelled familiar, he sounded familiar. All of it reminded him of what he'd thought was lost.

"Carry me." Lance demanded. 

"You got it. Piggy back?"

"Duh."

Hunk didn't miss a beat, hefting Lance up onto his back as he began the trek to the guest barracks. The steady sway of walking through the halls, the strong warmth from Hunk's back; all of it lulled Lance into a sleepy nap that was more comfortable than any sleep he'd had in days.

\- - -


	6. Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make it easier to get back into writing again, I'll be posting shorter chapters so I don't feel overwhelmed trying to make a certain word count. We're getting close to the conclusion, and I hope to do the characters and their plights justice before then.

Wasteland - Chapter 6

_Who are you? Who are you, really?_

His face looked back at him a thousand times over. Copies of himself poured over the space he existed in. His heartbeat shook terribly inside his chest, tight and unyielding as it shrank, shrank, shrank within him. 

_Look what you have done to them. Look how you failed them._

Images flashed underneath him, reflected in a black pool of water at his feet. Yelling at Lance as the boy tried to come into his own as a thoughtful, promising leader. Siding with Lotor as a witch whispered plans into his ear. Leading the team astray one moment, and playing the doting role of big brother moments later. 

_Who am I, really? A fraud. A fake. Broken._

Broken.

Broken....

"Shiro!"

A voice. A lovely voice, young and desperate. 

"Shiro, please wake up! I need you!"

It wavered and wobbled in his ear. This voice, this pure light trying to find him.. He didn't deserve such light. Such hope and promise. He was a monster. A Monster...

"Don't leave me here.. please..."

The voice was crying. It was painful. His heart, shrinking and heavy with despair tore into pieces.

_I can't go back. I'm not meant to be there. I'm nothing. I'm..._

"SHIRO!"

\- - -

A gasp, and dark eyes opened suddenly wide. A breath taken in as if he had not breathed life in decades. Keith looked down at Shiro as the man startled back into the waking world.

"Shiro.." Keith's voice wobbled, and he hurriedly brushed away a stray tear. "Are.. are you okay? How are you feeling?" He felt uncertain, worried and careful as he treaded on egg shells. Shiro stared back, breathing in and out carefully as he came back into his own mind.

"Keith.." He breathed out, flicking his gaze between a pair of widened eyes that looked down on him with such love and pain. "I was.." What was he doing all this time? Ruminating in despair at the horrid memories and existential crisis that plagued him. He grunted, struggling to sit up against the headboard of the bed he was in. Keith helped, holding him up in case he keeled over, desperate to maintain contact. 

"Easy.." Keith murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed, keeping a hand on each shoulder. "You've been.. catatonic since we got captured. I was so worried the scientists did something to you.."

"Did they..?" Shiro felt fuzzy headed when he tried to recall the torture. Maybe it was best not to prod and pry. "I was lost in my own head for a while. So much has happened, and I felt.. torn apart. Guilt and fear just ate away at me." He closed his eyes, frowning against the weakness that had taken him over. He was better than this. Stronger than this. Whatever those druids or scientists had done, it nearly got the better of him.

"I'm sorry for making you worry, Keith." Shiro gave him a soft smile, fixing his gaze on a young and worried face. "I let my weakness and worry get the better of me. I'll do better."

Keith frowned, shaking his head. "No, Shiro... I..." Keith let out a frustrated breath, bringing a hand up to clutch at his own hair. "You're only human. I hate to think that we made you feel as if you had to be something more than that. I know I tend to put you on a bit of a pedestal. I don't want to burden you with any more than you need to shoulder. You deserve to have time to sort out your thoughts, or even just simmer in your own worries and.."

"Keith, no." Shiro sat up fully, holding Keith's arm to stop him from pulling his own hair in worry. "My troubles are my own. I have a responsibility to you and this team. This war. I'd never consider you or any of the team as a burden, no matter what I may have..." And here he paused, furrowing his brow.

_What am I?_

"Those clones.." Shiro murmured, feeling that fear and doubt creep over him again. "Keith I..." He didn't want to trouble Keith. Didn't want to cause the boy any more worry. However... all those things he'd done lately. All those clones. The witch, the memory loss...

"Do you.. think I might not be me? Am I a clone?"

Keith's eyes went wide, and his voice quivered when he next spoke. "Shiro, what do you mean?"

"Those clones we saw.. and the things those druids said.. I was taken over by Haggar back there. She influenced a lot of my leadership while Lotor was our ally, and I said and did some awful, inconsiderate things.. I'm worried Keith. I'm worried I might not be the real Shiro."

Keith's stomach dropped to the floor. This? How long had Shiro been keeping such a heavy weight in his mind? Never sharing the worry, and just trying to swim through on his own? What made this wonderful and kind man think he couldn't lean on anyone while he suffered so?

"Shiro.." Keith murmured, taking Shiro's face in both hands, forcing him to maintain eye contact. "No matter what you are. No matter what body you have? You're you. Just have faith in your own heart. I can't believe you've been carrying this weight all by yourself. Shiro, please don't do that. You have me! You have the team. We all want what's best for you, just like you want what's best for us. Don't do to yourself what you wouldn't want us to do to ourselves."

Keith let go of him, letting his hands fall to his own lap. "I'm part Galra, and I had to come to terms with that on my own. It felt like the whole universe wanted me dead. Does that make _me_ a monster?"

Shiro breathed out, wringing his hands in his lap. Their circumstances were very different, but he could see what Keith was trying to say. Whether or not he was the original Shiro or not didn't matter. What mattered was his heart; his intentions. And he intended to care for Keith and everyone who lived on the castle of lions. 

"I'm okay, Keith." Shiro said after some time had passed. He gave him a smile, stronger than it was only moments ago. "Thank you."

Keith smiled back, relief washing over a face worn with heavy worry. "Any time."


	7. Otherside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to find the castle.

Wasteland - Chapter 7

Lance was on the mend, and Shiro was once again lucid and awake. The time to investigate the Clone Facility loomed closer. Lotor's empire was in shambles, as he chose to focus on some unknown hobby project, leaving the fractured state of his rule to the warring lords of the galaxy. 

A galaxy that desperately needed Voltron.

Hunk watched as Lance took in the latest news of the dwindling state of peace in the universe. The boy's face was screwed with worry and guilt, as if he alone were the reason they group was being held back. He couldn't let Lance do that to himself. Not after all he'd been through. He'd left his best friend alone far too long these last few months; chasing tech and hyper fixating on everything else the world had to offer. Lance had no one out here. No family to fall back on. No oceans or roof tops to find solace in. Hunk needed to step up, the engineer told himself. 

Hunk grasped Lance's shoulder, giving him a warm smile. "All in due time, buddy." He assured him, trying to fix that wrinkle between Lance's brow with kindness. 

Lance frowned, looking down at his lap. He'd gotten dressed in in his repaired Paladin armour, as had they all. Lance was far from feeling better, but he felt like maybe if he dressed the part of a soldier, he'd magically heal.

Hunk frowned as well. It was difficult to take away the burden Lance put upon himself. He'd just have to stick close by, and keep him from trying too hard too soon. 

"Hunk.. did you and Pidge find some way to harness that weird teleporting thing you had trouble with?" Lance asked, trying to steer the worry away from himself. Hunk humoured him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. The rest of the meeting was done already, with Blades leaving the table, and Keith following the strange Galra woman out with them.

"Yeah! The druids' magic kinda acted a lot like Altean magic fused with tech, right? So we just hacked into the armour's data centre and tweaked the code. No biggie."

Lance smirked lightly, "Good for you." He meant it to sound encouraging, but the tired lull in his enthusiasm did not carry it so well. "You guys are amazing. Way smarter than I could ever hope to be." _It must be nice to be useful_ , he told himself unhelpfully.

Hunk frowned once more, watching Lance as the boy's eyes followed the last of the Blades leaving the room. 

"What are you thinking about there, Lance? You aren't comparing yourself to the rest of us, are you?" He gave the boy's arm a squeeze, knocking their heads together. Lance grunted, and Hunk chuckled. "Yeah, we're smart. We have our own thing going. And the Blades have been doing whatever they do for decapheobs! But Lance? If everyone was the same, there'd be a huge gap in what could be accomplished. Even if all you had to offer was your flirting abilities, which, by the way, aren't that great? You'd still be the best Lance I could ask for. Never mind that though. What you bring to this table?"

And Hunk gestured to the abandoned room, smile growing proud, "What you bring is countless. Nameless. I've seen you offer opinions and strategies way different than the rest of the team, giving us an outlook we might not have considered. You have a great eye as a sharpshooter. You're way braver than I could ever hope to be! I've seen you throw yourself in front of bombs and danger, and you never ever flinch! It's reckless.. but it also shows me how much heart you have. That's important, Lance. More important than any PhD or military experience. You've got heart. And that's what this war needs."

Lance looked at his friend, looking into warm brown eyes that always looked at him with fondness. He gave the boy a wide smile, and allowed his anxiety to slip away. "Thanks man. That's the nicest thing you ever said to me."

"Aw c'mon. I say nice things all the time."

They both grinned, chuckling as they sat up to finally leave the room.

\- - -

There it was. The Cloning Facility. Keith watched it get closer with a painful tug in his gut. He liked to think the druids were just messing with Shiro; that the man they had now was the same Shiro who had been his brother. Whether he was or not shouldn't matter. Yet if this man now was a clone, then what happened to the real...

No. Don't go down that road.

Keith huffed, tugging on his armour and heading toward the loading bay. It was time to find their missing Princess.

\- - -

Lance tried not to get irritated as Hunk fussed at his side, worrying over the slight remainder of his fever. 

"Are you sure you're okay to come with us? Does your tummy hurt? You said it hurt this morning."

"Hunk, please stop. I appreciate the love and care, but I'm starting to feel like you guys should just go back to making fun of me."

He didn't mean to come off so bitter. After all, it was nice to be fussed over. It sure beat having his feelings seen as nothing but hollow attempts at attention. But not in front of twelve or so trained Blades giving him a condescending look; like he was a helpless child within a military base. Hunk stood back, moping to himself. Lance immediately felt badly for his attitude.

The Paladins headed for the surface, followed by a small handful of Blades, including Krolia and Kolivan. 

The closer they got to the site of the attack, Lance felt a tingling in his mind. "Guys.." He murmured, stopping when they reached the clone room.

"Yeah.." Hunk murmured, "I feel it too."

Their lions. 

The deep rumble was far away, but the pull was there nonetheless. The lions were nearby. Pidge whistled, holding up some device she and Hunk had been making the last few days.

"There is definitely some kind of anomaly here. Similar to what happened to our armour."

"But then where is the castle?" Lanced asked, kicking aside some rubble. 

Pidge gave a low hum, looking over data with an increasingly concerned expression. "They should be right here... I'm reading the castle's signature.. and also residual druid magic. I have a strong feeling they're stuck in some side or pocket dimension. Maybe the druids did something to it after they got rid of us."

Pidge gave Hunk a look, then began fiddling further with her device. "Lance? I need your brain."

 _That's a first._ He thought bitterly, but gave a smile nonetheless. "Really? Awesome! Bout time. What does our little genius need _me_ for?"

Pidge gave Lance a withering stare, before waving Hunk to attend to Lance. Hunk approached him with an apologetic expression, carrying plugs attached to wires. "We think you might have some leftover druid imprints in your DNA, so we need to use you as an anchor to this world while we try and find Allura and the castle in, what we assume, is a parallel dimension."

Lance had a lot to unpack there, but one thing stuck out most vividly. "You aren't putting that gunk in my hair." He gave an indignant sniff, his chin up high and his lanky arms crossed.

"Relax, Lance." Pidge murmured, "Just do what we ask. Sooner you do, the better a chance we have of finding our lost princess."

Hunk was already getting to work, his face quite close to Lance's as he threaded small plugs past thin locks of brown hair, and onto his scalp. Lance whined in the back of his throat, already dreading how many washes it would take to get any plug-glue out from his hair. Maybe he'd be lucky, and it was space glue, or no glue at all. Maybe it attached to his hair with the power of alien magic and dreams.

He silently stewed in irritation, worrying about glue, druids and time fluxes, all while Hunk quietly breathed at his side. 

"Aaaand done. Fire it up, Pidge!"

"Wait what?" Lance squeaked. "Already? W-what if it goes wrong?"

"It'll be fine!" Pidge announced happily, tuning Lance's brain waves with the druid data from her armour, "Probably."

With that, she flicked a switch. 

The world around them wavered and skipped, coming in and out of focus. Figures flickered around them, frozen in time.

Lance gave a sharp breath, his heart squeezing in fear.

"Druids.."


	8. Come What May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter. 
> 
> End of "Matters of the Heart" trilogy.

Wasteland - Chapter 8

Druids, frozen in time, wavering in and out like static. Above them loomed the Castle of Lions, covered in a dark purple miasma. The Druid's energy seemed to be pointing right at it. 

"Must be a spell gone wrong.." Pidge murmured, as Lance felt his brain being split in two directions. He felt like he was physically in one world, yet his mind was being pulled into another. It was disorienting and painful. But to get the castle back, he had to endure it.

He grimaced through the pain, his hands balled tight at his side. He felt a warm hand on his spine. Turning slightly, he saw it was Hunk, giving him a worried smile. _I'm not alone_ , Lance reminded himself. His best friend was here to support him. They were all going to make this right.

"So..." Hunk started, clicking his tongue, "How do we.. un-stuck them, exactly?"

Lance suddenly had a thought. At first he kept silent, looking to Pidge who would surely say the same thing anyway. But she was squinting at the sky above, worrying over data and probability. 

"The lions." Lance said aloud, his chin high as he regarded his team. 

Shiro smiled wide, pride evident in his stature. "Great thinking, Lance! We use the bond to connect with the lions. If anything can fix this? It's giant robotic magic space cats."

The team gave a soft snort of laughter, including Keith, hiding somewhat away from the main group. 

The Paladins closed their eyes. Lance felt his bond with Red tug him from his space. A warm fire began in his chest, spreading up through his body. He could feel the lions connect, a pull similar to forming Voltron. As Lance opened his eyes, he could already see the magic at work.

There were tears in the sky, breaking the purple up and replacing it with normalcy. The druids began to crumble, as if their own power was being turned against them. And the castle, white and gleaming, began to move once more.

"Paladins!!" Came the ecstatic sound of the Princess over their comms. "I can feel you.. you're there, are you not?"

Lance grinned, the tug of the druid's magic finally gone; the space-time pocket dissolving. "We're here, Allura!"

\- - -

The Great Hall was filled with rebel forces and Blades, as well as stray Paladins. Keith, Shiro and Krolia stood on their own, having an animated discussion about Keith's upbringing, much to Keith's distress. As it turned out, the strange woman had been Keith's mother; a bombshell that had gone over better than it could have.

Pidge and Hunk regaled Coran with tales of their adventures, as he avidly took notes and beamed in awe.

Lance sat with Allura on the outskirts of the ballroom, nursing a drink he had no interest in. Allura had explained how she'd gotten in a stand-still with the Druid's after the Paladins had been _Yeet'd_ into the far reaches of the galaxy. 

"Somehow, the Castle's energy, my magic and the Druids' all sort of resulted in a time-rift that froze nearly everything within it. I remained able to move about, but I was cut off from absolutely everything."

Lance looked upon Allura with aching sympathy. "I'm so sorry, Allura. It must have been so lonely."

And he knew it would have been. He felt it in his bones. A loneliness that could tear a human apart.

Allura gave him a soft smile, her eyes warm with fond assurance. "Thank you, Lance. I was lonely.. but it's all better now. You're all back, and we can continue on as before." She seemed resolute in this belief, casting aside her ordeal and focusing on the road ahead. It was admirable for sure, but Lance felt a panic well in his heart. The poor girl needed time with loved ones to properly chew through what she went through, not ignore it or pack it deep down. She always did this; piling her plate to high to carry safely.

Lance gave a shake of his head. "Slow down, Allura. No need to hit the ground running."

"I must, though. I have so much to do. The universe-"

"Can wait." Lance interrupted, putting on his best no-nonsense face. "We have allies to help. You have friends to help. I know now more than ever that we need to take time to keep ourselves healthy before we can save anyone."

Allura was trapped in that rift for weeks. Alone. Worrying. Plagued with guilt and helplessness. Lance would not just allow her to 'move forwards' without giving herself a break to heal.

Allura gave his words thought, furrowing her light brows. "Perhaps.."

Lance gave her shoulder a light shove with his own, earning a small chuckle as a result. "Very well, Lance. What do you suggest I do to 'heal'?"

Lance grinned then, being an expert in what was to come.

"Talk about your problems. Everything that you felt over the last few weeks. After that's done? We eat ice cream and complain about how shitty the Universe is. And THEN, we play Killbot Phantasm and beat Pidge's high score. After that? Pillow fight."

Allura did laugh then, lilting and full of mirth. "Lance, are you inviting me to a sleep-over?"

He ducked his head, scratching his neck in bashfulness. "I mean... yeah? If you wanna? It doesn't have to be me, though. Pidge would do it, I bet. Shiro's a great listener. Hunk could whip up a cake for you.."

Allura clasped her hand on his shoulder, leaning in and letting her head rest against his. He could smell the clean scent of her shampoo, the faint tickle on his cheek of a loose hair from her bun. "I accept your offer, Lance. I feel like you must be the expert on this subject. I shall entrust my recovery to you."

Lance blushed, smiling honestly. "I'll do my best."

It was almost like a date, but Lance wouldn't let himself go that far. No, this was to help Allura. Just the way his team had always helped him. There were times one had to pull up their own bootstraps, and times you needed to ask for a little helping hand.

Being the one doing the helping? Lance was keen to be that person once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is a wrap! I worry its a very quick ending, but there wasn't anything more I wished to explore in this narrative. I'm so lucky to have all of you read this series, and receive so many warm and wonderful comments and kudos. Thank you all so much for your support!!
> 
> I hope to post more fan fiction in the future. I've been working on a few one-shots, some Keith focused ones especially. They're all hanging in my sticky-notes, slowly building words. 
> 
> See ya all soon!


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